#i just saw things people didnt and could read between the lines and find terrifying things where others saw nothing at all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

creacherkeeper · 3 years

Text

im getting a little too in my family feels today and so INSTEAD of feeling those im just going to ramble for a second about why i fucking love paladin!aelwyn because. im. just like this i guess im coping leave me alone

cw for discussions of child abuse, maladaptive coping, drugs and alcohol, self harm, destructive tendencies, basically everything we see in canon and the implications

aelwyn is ... SO interesting to me because for as much of her interiority as we see, as much of her as we think we understand, as much as i could ramble about her character for hours, we know ALMOST NOTHING about her in actuality?? (besides ... one key thing)

(this is like 2k and probably incoherent someone please stop me)

okay. listen. almost everything we see aelwyn do in s1 is maladaptive rebellion against her parents and home life. the drinking, the drugs, the partying, perhaps some of kalvaxus (though i dont think we fully understand how much of that was forced on her as well, kalina WAS watching her when she was talking to adaine about it). you can say like, oh aelwyn is a party animal, she's impulsive, she makes risky decisions, she's bitchy and rude, and its like. okay but IS SHE ACTUALLY. because under her parents thumb she had an EXTREMELY limited amount of freedom, and usually when people are suffering from very little control over their life, they WILL act destructively over the tiny bit they can, either harming themselves or their environment or people lower than them in the pecking order, because in a way, that feels like a reclamation of autonomy. saying "you have so much power over me but can you stop me from hurting myself and destroying what you havent managed to claim yet?". its just like, kind of what human brains do and frequently has little to do with a persons actual personality or impulses, its just. desperate brains trying to control SOMETHING because autonomy is a fundamental human need and when thats taken away we get. very bad off. (this is one big reason eating disorders are SO common with abused kids.) so i think a lot of the s1 aelwyn we see is like. this is a very desperate, abused teenager "acting out" in the only way it is possibly somewhat safe for her to do so because, on a psychological level, the self destruction is weirdly the only emotional tether and its either this or just dissociate all the time (something we do see she has problems with in canon)

and yes, she did treat adaine horribly in s1. she fully did. obviously what we get in canon is what happens but a moment thats interesting to me is in episode 1 where adaine has attacked aelwyn several times, who either does nothing or just bounces it back, when she says "i never cast spells at you" and siobhan immediately retcons it and says "yes you do, all the time" (i havent gone back and watched this bit so i might be wording this wrong). obviously its an improv show and the canon is built between performers as they go, but that was interesting to me. that brennan hadnt intended for her to have fought back in that way. she definitely feeds into the emotional abuse from their parents and participates in all the toxicity there, but we know in canon that she did that because of overwhelming fear and self preservation. and that her self hatred because of it just fed back into the cycle and made her feel like she wasnt good enough to even try to break free from it. this is very common in golden child/scapegoat sibling relationships where the golden child SEES what the parents are capable of and becomes a participant in the abuse out of fear for their own standing. in any way siding with the scapegoat child not only directs abuse at themselves as well, but frequently makes things WORSE for the scapegoat because the parents will take out the challenge to their power on them even more. so, if aelwyn DID ever try to defend or help adaine when they were small, she would have VERY QUICKLY learned that made things worse for everyone. and just. sectioned that part of her brain off, as she's done with so many other things. (and i dont think im reading too much into the forest scene with the abernants to say their parents were VERY QUICK to turn abuse towards aelwyn if she stepped out of line even a little. like, you dont flinch when a hand moves unless. you know. dont need to say it just something to think about. as far as we saw in canon, she had done everything they asked of her leading up to the forest, and we DONT KNOW what happened in it but we do know brennan specifically called out how in broken spirits she was when adaine was summoned, even though they did the ritual to avoid all of the nightmare bullshit)

(the house party is literally a whole separate post but i think its fair to point out that 1) she was super under the influence when that was happening which DEFINITELY is in no way an excuse for her behavior but worth remembering when trying to analyze that 2) her losing that fight did canonically have DRASTIC consequences for her and even if she didnt know exactly how that was going to turn out, i think she knew how bad it might be. and she did not know adaine or any of the bad kids were going to be there in the first place)

all that said, it feels in some ways counterproductive to say that aelwyn is an extremely devoted and protective person (yes we're getting to the paladin shit i know i've been rambling a while) but i think that thats strangely ALL WE ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT HER. because we've established that her self-destructive and abusive behavior in s1 is almost entirely psychologically scripted for her by her parents, we dont know how much of her villain shit in s1 was LITERALLY UNDER THREAT OF DEATH because we know at least killing the oracle was and we dont know how much of the rest of it was mandated by either her parents or kalina other than that she probably was under orders not to tell adaine the truth, and we know participating in all of this caused extreme self loathing in her that she refused to show to anybody and was too terrified to act on in any way

so, like. what does that actually leave us?

here's what we do know about aelwyn:

- of all the schools of magic, she went into abjuration

- the entire bbeg plan from season 1 hinged on aelwyn's complete faith that her level 1 sister was the most prodigious diviner in the world

- right after (?) the house party, she locked her memories where only adaine could find it with a note basically saying "theres so much bad blood between us but i know only you could find this"

- she desperately wanted to protect adaine and the fact that she was too afraid to do so made her hate herself (and her knowing that adaine now knows this is the turning point in their relationship)

- despite everything, even in the nmk forest, she still loved her parents

- the SECOND she is shown genuine love and affection and care from adaine, and adaine says whatever you do, i am here with you, all her actions from there forward are just about protecting adaine from their father, very nearly at the cost of her own life

- with what she probably thought were her last words (and would have been if adaine hadnt given her the tincture), all she wanted to communicate was how to help adaine and the bad kids, and how despite everything she had always believed in her

- at five levels of exhaustion, unconscious, she used her first spell slot after nine months of torture to build a shield around adaine

NOW we get to paladin!aelwyn. because, once everything is stripped away, the abuse and the control and the maladaption and the threats and the torture, EVERYTHING we ACTUALLY can glean about aelwyn's personality and inner core is that she's protective and devoted. and of course classes arent locked by personality, but that just screams paladin to me. its her WHOLE THING. adaine even says "wizards dont have heals, we dont care about other people" and of COURSE that isnt true for either of them, but? mechanically? aelwyn chose the wizard school that DID let her protect, and DID let her help, but i dont think, at this point, going forward, thats really going to be enough for her (and we could also talk about the parallels between them, how often adaine uses her portents to help other people)

i think a lot of the different reads on aelwyn come from this fundamental disconnect between her actions and displayed personality vs who she actually is and what she actually wants. and i think there are very different interpretations of what thats going to look like for her going forward. but i think, for a girl who's most hated characteristic about herself was her self preservation at the detriment of others, her perceived selfishness, and her fear ... isn't choosing to be braver and more selfless and more protective and shedding that self-preserving instinct for the betterment of others ... and MECHANICALLY being able to act on all those things ... the logical next step? i think its going to be a LONG TIME before aelwyn can love herself, but what other way is there to try? if adaine loves her, and adaine believes she can be better, isnt being better because she trusts adaine kind of a form of self love? saying, i dont believe in myself, but i believe in the person who believes in me, and maybe, in a roundabout way, thats the same thing. she was never able to TRY to be better before, because trying to improve even a little, even when people arent watching, when a harmful force has so much power over you and your actions ... like, the mental dissonance is honestly TOO much to even try, thats WAY more terrifying than letting yourself be bad, to the point where thats psychologically impossible for a lot of people. but now she actually has space and freedom and CHOICE and she CAN embrace the instincts she always had to shove down, she CAN be the person she knows her sister needed her to be

i dont know, i think theres an inherent love letter to yourself in wanting to be better and wanting to improve, even if you justify it by saying its for someone else. and now aelwyn actually CAN improve, and thats probably going to be extremely awkward and scary and there will be set backs and backslides for sure. but. i dont know. i think she wants to make up for lost time. because she never wanted the time to be lost in the first place. and if a protector is who she always wanted to be, whats stopping her from being that now?

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #aelwyn abernant #WHO LET ME WRITE ALL THIS #does this even. fucking. make sense. who knows.#THE BRAINROT THE BRAINROT THE BRAINROT

40 notes · View notes

the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years

Text

Madness | Chpt. 9

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Alone Again”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7,782

Warnings: ???

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

A/N: This was one of the more difficult chapters to make it through, since I wanted to follow the timeline of events in IM3 (one of my favorite movies in the MCU), but I also wanted to tie in Eva. I hope Tony lives up to your expectations. I try to pull pieces from the MCU version, comic book version, and my own personal ideas. Once again, you’re all so amazing for even reading this in the first place. I love all of you so, so, so much <3 -Ellie

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny @xletmetaste-yoursmilex @itsknife2meetu (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

When I landed, a chill overcame me as soon as the bridge disappeared from around me. I gazed around at the ground that surrounded the ring the Bifrost left and noticed that it was all snow. I pulled the hood of my white robe over my head and pulled the robes around my body, feeling warmer instantly. As I gazed up into the crystal clear night sky, I saw the stars twinkling and shimmering. Midgard had some of the most beautiful views of the sky, but it was nothing close to the view from the edge of Asgard. Still, whenever Loki and I were on Midgard, we would find a way to lay in the grass and gaze up at the stars for a while. Suddenly, I noticed him. At first, he looked more like a falling star than the armored man. Seeing his trajectory, I knew that he was bound to fly right into the forest next to me.

I ran over to the trees and rested my hand against them. As I closed my eyes, I connected with the essence of life within the planet itself. She was beautiful, strong, and loving without expecting any love in return. The Midgardians often treated her poorly, but she continued to provide for them as best she could. I focused on the pulsing energy beneath the tips of my fingers as the sound of the suit rocketing toward the Earth faded away. The sound wasn’t replaced by another, but instead, it was replaced by the beautiful silence of the world. In the silence, my soul became eternally bound to hers. It was an experience that I had on my own, as no other Asgardian I confided in had ever felt that way before. However, it made my bonds with the life energies of every world that much more powerful. When our souls bound together, she finally heard my heart, and I could feel the tree beneath my hand shift. I felt them all shift.

When I opened my eyes, I saw that the trees had separated just enough to accommodate Tony’s fall, and as he zoomed past me and through the forest, I thanked her for her act of generosity. I began running after him, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to catch him, not before he stopped himself. He bounced off the ground a few more times, which slowed him down. Nearly as soon as he made it out of the forest, I had caught up to him enough to grab hold of his suit in an attempt to stop him. The metal slipped from my fingers, and he skidded across the ground before coming to a complete stop, face first in the snow. I hid myself in the darkness that the forest provided once the trees moved back into place. The light from the stars and moon in the night sky left shadows in the woods that I faded into.

As I camouflaged myself in the darkness, I watched as one of the greatest heroes I knew groaned and turned himself over onto his back before reaching up and tearing off the metal faceplate, “what the hell was that?” he asked aloud to the artificial intelligence we all knew as Jarvis. I could hear the change in his breathing pattern. I had such a strong connection to him that I could feel every subtle change within him, sometimes before they even happened. I knew that he was paranoid about what just happened, “did you see that beam of light in the sky, Jay? Was it just me? Am I going crazy? Where are we” he asked, his voice trembling.

I didn’t hear Jarvis’ response, but if I closed my eyes, I could hear that voice. It was smoother than anyone could have anticipated from a disembodied, artificial voice. As Tony’s suit opened, I watched as he shot out of it, sitting up and staring into the woods he had just barrelled through. I knew he was trying to think of how he possibly made it out of there without crashing through trees and hitting branches. His eyes scanned the shadows, but I blended in so well that he wouldn’t be able to see me even if he was staring right at me. I watched as he began to shudder from the cold, “that’s brisk!” he exclaimed, his entire body trembling from the cold. I couldn’t imagine how it must’ve felt for him. I was lucky enough to be impervious to the fluctuating seasons. The extreme heat and cold wouldn’t kill me, but it could make me uncomfortable, and I was pretty uncomfortable in that moment, “maybe I’ll just cozy back up for a-”

Tony was cut off by the disembodied voice that came from the open suit, “I...actually think I need to sleep now, sir,” Jarvis said, the suit beginning to power down.

“Jarvis. Jarvis?” Tony asked, panic in his voice. I knew he didn’t want to be left alone, not after what he just went through. I didn’t know what led up to him rocketing down toward the ground, but I could tell by the fear in his voice, the cuts on his face, and the shaking in his hands that things were far from being alright for him. He was terrified, and it wasn’t because of what just happened, it was because of something else, something I needed to help him with. As his eyes continued to scan the forest around him, I stepped out of the shadows and listened to his breath hitch in his throat. As I stepped out of the forest and closed the space between us, I lowered the hood of my robes, “Eva?” he asked, his body continuing to quake in anticipation, uncertainty, and the cold.

The sides of my mouth pulled up into a smile, and I did my best to push back the pain in my abdomen for the moment in order to be positive for his sake, “hi, Tony,” I murmured, my heart filling with joy as it finally sank in that he was alive. When Heimdall told me that he was in danger, I was worried that I wouldn’t make it to him in time or that he would already be dead.

His dark brown eyes remained wide, even as I knelt down beside him. He was in utter disbelief that I was even there in front of him, and there would be little to nothing I could do to ease his mind. The last time we saw each other, I had made it abundantly clear that I would only be back in the most dire circumstances that pertained to her safety. However, I knew that she wasn’t in danger with Steve; there was no way he would allow harm to come to her, especially not after all we had been through. Tony was the only one whose life was on the line. He shook his head, his eyelashes fluttering like the wings of a butterfly as he tried to blink away what he thought was an illusion, “am I dreaming?” he asked, the words causing me to let out a chuckle, “am I dead?” he asked, not understanding why he was seeing me.

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering why it was so hard for a genius like him to figure it out. I knew that part of it was how I left things when I went back to Asgard the last time, but I also knew that a part of it was because he couldn’t wrap his mind around why someone would care about him enough to go out of their way to help him. It was devastating to see him trying to figure out why people would care about him in the first place, and I was watching it happen in front of my eyes in that very moment, “no, why?” I asked, wrapping my cloak around his shoulders to keep him warm. The lack of warmth from my cloak left my patches of bare skin prey for the cold air around us. Tony was warm, though, and that was all that mattered.

As he tried to shrug out of the cloak, not wanting me to go without, I shook my head and watched as the robes stayed locked around his body. He looked genuinely confused, but he was still too busy trying to decipher my presence, “what the hell are you doing here?” he asked, finally giving up the fight to figure it out on his own. Suddenly, his eyes filled with dread, “is she okay?” he asked, knowing that there should’ve been no reason for my presence as long as she was safe.

I gave a simple nod, not wanting to talk about her, “I’m here to help. I saw that you were in trouble, so I’m here to help you sort through it and to make sure you don’t get yourself killed, which it seems like you’re trying to do,” I said, gazing at the cuts on his face. There was one across the bridge of his nose, one on his cheek, and one on his forehead. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to piece together what happened before I got there, what happened to lead to him rocketing toward the Earth, looking just as busted up as Hjalmar did when he trained with Ephinea. She could lay him out without missing a beat, “you’re bleeding!” I exclaimed, reaching out to cup his cheek only for him to wince away from me.

That single move tore my heart to pieces, as if there was still enough of it left whole for that to happen. I had always been able to see through the facade he put up, but this was something new. He was far more vulnerable than ever before in that one reaction, and it summed up the way he saw himself. It summed up just how little he believed he was worth. He didn’t think himself worthy enough for my help, and he was afraid that I would hurt him. It hurt to know that he could view me as a threat, but it hurt me even more that someone or something hurt him so badly that he was conditioned to expect that. Tony had been through a lot, far more than he ever could’ve imagined, far more than many others could handle. He was tender-hearted but hid away that side of himself to appear cold, to appear “strong.”

I blinked the tears away, not wanting to show him how much his action truly hurt me, “I can fix it,” I explained, causing him to finally show himself to me. His eyebrows furrowed, and I knew that he doubted my abilities, but he would see them in a moment. I reached up once more, focusing on the slow movement of my hand, making sure not to startle him again. The entire time, I felt his gaze on me, and once I finally rested my hand against his cheek, I met his intense stare, brown eyes boring into mine. They were so deep that the further I fell into his gaze, the warmer I became. As I focused my power, I felt his wounds transferring through my fingertips and onto me, and his eyes fluttered closed. Even though it was always an unpleasant experience, even though my whole body ached, the piece that made the transfer worth it was knowing that the pain I endured was a pain he no longer needed to carry. For a man like Tony, I would take on a pain that would take my life just so the world could keep him.

Once I removed my hand from his cheek, his eyes shot open. Every time I touched someone, I knew the effect. Our souls-for that moment-were connected. I didn’t understand why or how it happened, but it did. When I used my abilities on that person through the touch, the connection was heightened. When I stopped using my abilities and pulled away, it was like an electrical shock, leaving the other person slightly mystified. When Tony finally realized what I had done, seeing the cuts on my face that once belonged to him, his eyebrows furrowed, “how did-why did you do that?” he asked, tripping over his own words.

“I wanted to help,” I answered simply before standing up and holding my hand out for him to join me. He took it, and I pulled him up to his feet. He brushed himself off beneath the cloak that fell from his broad shoulders. For a moment, I saw Howard once more, and I realized how similar they looked but how much gentler Tony was than his father. I cleared my throat, not wanting to waste time reminiscing when I didn’t know the kind of danger Tony was in, “come. Let us find somewhere warmer,” I stated, and he nodded his head in agreement. Even though he was warm in the robes, I knew he only agreed because he was worried about me, and he would’ve attempted to give the robes back if he didn’t already know what my response would have been. We learned a lot about each other in New York, “we should make our way toward the closest town. I will carry the suit. Just follow me and try not to freeze to death.”

He shook his head as soon as I mentioned his suit, and I knew that it was the same reaction I would’ve received if I offered to carry a mother’s newborn child away from her. He was simply protective over his creations, and he had good reason to be. He worked tirelessly on them, and I saw what his obsession and perfectionist mentality had done to him. He wanted to protect the things he nearly killed himself trying to perfect, “I can carry the-” his voice trailed off as I lifted the suit into my arms, and rested it over my shoulder like Hjalmar did to me countless times before throwing me into the pond in the woods behind our cottage. I watched as Tony’s eyes widened, and he cleared his throat, “yeah, you can...carry the suit,” he murmured.

I chuckled, knowing that he seemingly forgot that I was not of this world, that our anatomy, while very similar, was different. I was no goddess, but Asgardians were physically stronger than the people of Midgard and were more durable for the most part. Closing my eyes, I felt my life connecting with the essence of the world beneath my feet, and I listened to the gentle thrumming that surrounded me. I could where it was coming from, and when I opened my eyes, I began following it with Tony close behind me. He picked up his pace and gazed up at me, “how do you even know which way we’re going? Have you been in this area before?” he asked, unsure of how I knew where I was.

I shook my head, “no, but I can feel it,” I answered, not knowing exactly how to explain it, but I could still feel his confusion. Tony was very grounded in science and logic, but there were certain things about me, certain things about the world I knew, that weren’t grounded in anything I could explain with science or with a language he would know. I didn’t even know how to comprehend some of my abilities, and there were times when I lived in fear of them because they had a tendency to show up out of the blue. I wasn’t a goddess, but I had been granted strengths and abilities that were uncommon in the lives of the average Asgardian. I continued to speak, knowing that he would remain uncertain as long as his unasked question went unanswered, “it’s a lot like a vibration. I can feel the essence of life, and I can feel it when it’s close. I just know the way to go,” I explained to the best of my ability.

I glanced over at him, and our eyes connected. I saw every vulnerability he had in that moment, and he knew I could see it, but he didn’t try to hide from me. Our connection, while strange, was deep and unbreakable. No amount of time or space could break what we had, and that all began far before he could remember, far before I would ever disclose. He gave a simple nod of his head, content with the answer I gave, even though it was vague and confusing, “I trust you,” he remarked, an intensity in his eyes that could match a dying star.

“I won’t let you down,” I promised before gazing down at the snow that covered the ground in a blanket of white. We walked in silence for a while as we both tried to wrap our minds around what was happening in our own personal lives. I knew that Tony would be too respectful of my privacy to press the question of why I was on Midgard helping him. He knew what coming back to this world meant to me, the kind of pain and distress it would cause me, so he couldn’t understand why I would come back to help him with something that wasn’t a threat on a worldwide scale, not like Loki had been in New York. I didn’t know if he was willing to talk about the events that led up to him crashing into a field of snow so far from civilization, so we walked in silence until we saw the lights radiating from a small town.

“Maybe we should look for a phone, so you can try to contact Pepper to let her know you’re safe,” I noted, making a mental note to find someone who was willing to spare their phone for Tony to use, “she must be worried sick about you.”

He cleared his throat, and I felt a shift in his energy. Glancing over at him, I saw the frown etched deeply into his face, and I knew that he was upset by my words. Before I had the chance to apologize, he spoke, “she actually left after New York,” he confessed, “she said that it was too much to handle, especially since I wasn’t willing to put my suits to rest. How could I, though, especially after seeing what the world was up against?” he asked, running a hand through his hair before returning it to the warmth beneath the robes.

I frowned, “you’ve been a hero to the world for a long time, Tony. You made the choice to become a hero, and that choice didn’t come from a place of arrogance or need for a higher level of fame. You became a hero because you have the compassion this world so desperately needs. You took the weight of the world onto your shoulders and fought on behalf of those who couldn’t fight for themselves. If my words mean anything, you should know that you more than earned the luxury of hanging up the mantle of Iron Man and living as Tony Stark,” I explained, “I’m not telling you that you need to, and I’m not telling you that she was right for leaving. Just because she left doesn’t mean she doesn’t care about you anymore.”

He shook his head, “she moved on. She’s with a new guy in a new city, and she’s happy. That’s all I ever wanted for her, and I think that deep down, I knew she wouldn’t find that with me,” he stated.

My eyes immediately filled with tears as I listened to him talk about himself like there was something wrong with him. I blinked the tears away, but the ache in my heart was still there, “I really wish you could see yourself the way I see you because you’d understand just how brilliant and incredible you truly are, Tony. It hurts to hear the way you talk about yourself, like you’re not worthy of love because...you’re wrong,” I stated, shaking my head.

Then, there was silence again. All I could hear was the snowflakes falling from the sky. Some of them even clung to Tony’s long eyelashes, which I couldn’t help but notice when I glanced over at him, wanting to know if I had crossed a line with him. Feeling my gaze, he met my eyes with his once more, a light smile tugging at his lips, “so, if you aren’t down here for her, why come here for me?” he asked, questioning my reasoning with furrowed eyebrows. I knew that his confusion stemmed from my previous statements that I wouldn’t come back to Midgard unless her life was in danger or that the safety of the entire planet was on the line.

“I told Heimdall to keep an eye on certain people at all times-her, the other Avengers, and you,” I noted, feeling the disbelief within him when I mentioned him. The man never saw himself as worthy of anything, especially love or concern, “I assigned him the task of watching over you all, and he would fill me in on any changes as they presented themselves. He promised to alert me if any of your lives were in danger, and when he disclosed to me that you were in danger, I came right away,” I explained.

“So, you didn’t live up to your word,” he stated, nonchalantly, the hint of an entertained smirk forming on his lips. He was amused that he was right, as he had argued with me furiously when I promised not to come back. He told me that it was selfish and abhorrent to leave so many people who cared about me so much, and he also told me that I wouldn’t be able to stay away for long, not with the “heart of gold” he claimed I had. I didn’t believe it, though. How could I believe I was “good” or “worthy” when the favor I asked of him was so selfish, when I was poisoning everyone around me, when I was repeating the same injustice that was done to me when I wasn’t even old enough to comprehend it.

I sighed, “I couldn’t live up to my word, not with this. You were right, though, Tony. It was ignorant of me to think that I could stay away, especially from you,” I noted, glancing up at him to see that he tried to hide the color that rose to his cheeks the moment I paid him a compliment.

He cleared his throat, obviously not comfortable calling attention to the effect my words had on him in that moment. It wasn’t my intention to cause him discomfort, but perhaps I just had a tendency to do so. I could vividly remember my words of praise having the same effect on Loki, Thor, Hjalmar, Ephinea, and every Midgardian I came in contact with, including the ever stoic Natasha Romanoff. Tony glanced up at me, his brown eyes sparkling as if the galaxy resided within them, “well, I’m glad you’re here. I don’t like having to admit I need help, but it wouldn’t hurt to have an Asgardian in my corner for this one,” he noted, a slight grin tugging at his lips.

“We’re going to fix this together. You won’t face this alone, Tony; you never face anything alone,” I reminded him, knowing that he had a tendency to believe himself to be isolated, but as long as I was alive, there would never come a day he would be alone. I would be his guardian, regardless of the amount of times he tried to talk me out of risking my life for his. I had come to understand that we-as living beings-wish to preserve things that we deem better than ourselves, and Tony Stark was far better than I was.

The silence fell between us once more, and I found myself enjoying the soft crunch of snow beneath our feet. However, the sensation of the falling snowflakes left my cheeks wet and bitter cold. There was nothing quite like the sensation of his warmth invading my own, though. He drew closer and closer to me until there was little space between us, and he pushed the robe back just enough to slip his hand out from under it and grasp mine. As soon as our skin touched, I felt the uncertainty and the fear within him. He was terrified of the future, and my presence-somehow-gave him the support he so desperately needed in that trying time. His sudden firm, yet gentle, grasp of my hand made me realize the impact I could have on the life of a man who meant so much to me, and I could only hope I didn’t ruin it again.

For the remainder of our journey, I continued to carry the suit with one arm while the fingers of my opposite hand intertwined perfectly with those of the brilliant man beside me, “what has it been like?” he asked, vaguely, causing my eyebrows to furrow. I could feel what he wanted to ask me, but I was too afraid to answer him, so I resorted to confusion, “it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, and I don’t have a watcher like you do. The last time you left, I was...worried, and I haven’t seen you since. I just want to know what has gone on in your life,” he explained, his heart of gold shining through once more, as if I could possibly forget how tender he always was with me.

My heart broke as I thought of all that had happened since we’d last seen each other. No matter how terrible I felt at our last encounter, I felt impossibly worse in the aftermath of it. It was as if I tore the remainder of my heart out when we last saw each other and left it on Midgard. While it was broken and abused, I was lost without it, and with the loss of my brother and the struggles I had recently with Loki, I realized just how turbulent my life had been since I’d seen him. The last time we spoke, I was doing my best to fix the damaged pieces of myself and of my relationship with Loki. Knowing he was still alive renewed my drive to rescue him from the dark recesses of his own mind, a darkness that hadn’t been there from the beginning. Since that time, I had no opportunities to better myself or help Loki or keep the people I loved most safe. I sighed, “well…” I breathed out, not knowing how to explain everything to him. He had asked many questions when we “first” met, so he knew about Hjalmar and my past. The only thing he didn’t know about was my history with Loki.

My heart began racing in anticipation for having to open up about the complete and utter failure my life had been from the moment I left him on the rooftop in tears; however, as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, I was saved by a small and flickering light. The energy I felt was untamed, and I was caught off guard by the sudden pull to that place in particular. I pulled my hand away from his and pointed at the dim light, “look!” I exclaimed, urging Tony to take notice of our shelter for the night. I was more than grateful to have been saved from needing to talk about Hjalmar and Loki, knowing that I wouldn’t have been able to lie to Tony, not without him seeing right through me. I would’ve had no choice but to be honest with him about what I had gone through since our last encounter.

As we drew closer to the small shack, we saw it was adjacent to an equally small house that looked to be in need of some manual labor. After passing through one last clump of trees, we came to the clearing only to see the small town spread out only a short distance from the shack. I felt the vibrations becoming stronger and stronger within my body as we drew closer to our shelter for the night, and I glanced over at Tony’s face to see a look of pure relief. I knew that he had some doubts that we would manage to find our way to civilization, especially after his bad luck leading up to that point. Peeking in through the window of the house, he concluded that no one was home, but I couldn’t understand why my senses were so wrong. I could feel a powerful pull to this place, and if no one was there, it would be meaningless.

Once we broke into the shack-an easy feat when Tony had a crowbar-I stepped inside the air that was just a touch warmer than the outside and placed the suit down on the floor. As I stood back up, a pulse of fire radiated from the wound on my abdomen, causing my body to seize. Before Tony could notice, I forced myself to stand back up and push the pain as far away as possible. When I stood back up, I took in the sight of Tony sitting on a stool next to a workbench, barely lit by the light of a small lamp. He gazed around the dimly lit room, all while I gazed at him, and the vibrations became more and more powerful, almost like when I first met her.

“Freeze!” I heard the small but strong voice coming from the doorway Tony and I had just come through. Suddenly, the vibration stopped, and I felt the serenity wash over me. The boy was small and looked frail with golden hair that melted into strands of brown and green eyes, “don’t move,” he ordered, pointing the contraption in his hands at Tony.

I glanced over at my companion and noticed that he had his hands raised as a sign of surrender, and I wondered if my help was necessary against such a small opponent. Tony sighed, “You got me. Nice potato gun,” he complimented the young boy.

The small child looked up at me, and I couldn’t help but smile down at him, easing his nerves slightly. If I had been able to touch him, I could’ve calmed his nerves with a bit of focus, but I knew better than to reach out to a scared child. I wanted to help him, not traumatize him, and the situation we were in was traumatizing enough. He looked afraid as he gripped his “potato gun” that he would use for protection against us-the intruders; however, the moment I smiled at him, I watched as his fingers loosened on the barrel and trigger, and his lips curled up the slightest bit, “who are you?”

I knelt down to the floor, getting down onto his level and showing him that I wasn’t a threat. His breathing became slow and steady as he looked me over a few times, taking in the differences between myself and other people he had come into contact with, “my name is Eva, and you are?” I asked.

“Harley,” he answered politely, his green eyes flickering between mine, “why are you dressed like that?” he asked, lowering his makeshift weapon and gesturing at my armor.

I smiled at his innocent question, and I knew there was no way around it. I didn’t have to tell him I was an Asgardian, but I couldn’t lie to him either. I knew that the vibrations I had been feeling were because of the life force of the child in front of me, “where I’m from, this is what we wear to protect ourselves in battle, so when I leave home, I wear something similar to protect myself from other worthy opponents I may meet along the way,” I said, explaining it to him as thoroughly as possible without telling him outright where I was from.

His eyes continued to scan my body until they caught sight of the hilt of the sword over my shoulder, at which point I saw his eyes widen, “you’re the Mother Goddess!” he exclaimed, causing my eyebrows to furrow in confusion. I had never heard that name before, and I wondered if he had me confused with someone else. I glanced over at Tony who just gave me a simple nod of his head, letting me know that Harley was being completely honest, but I had no idea where that name came from. I wasn’t a goddess by any means of the word, so I didn’t know why I would be called that. Seeing my confusion, Harley spoke again, “you fought in New York, right?” he asked

I nodded my head, “I did,” I answered, my voice soft as I recalled some of the worst moments of my life thus far.

“And you’re one of the heroes from that day?” he asked, sweetness in his small voice.

I shook my head, “no, not a hero. I just-”

Tony’s voice from the workbench cut me off, causing both Harley and myself to switch our focus over to him, “yes, a hero,” he corrected me, his eyes connecting with Harley’s, “she nearly gave her life to protect Earth, and the name Earth gave her was fitting,” he said, his eyes flickering over to me, “you have a bit of a reputation here on Earth ever since New York. I was going to explain it to you tonight before we ran into anyone who recognized you, but I wasn’t anticipating any visitors,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders.

“Neither was I,” Harley interjected before glancing back over at me, “the people here gave you that name. We didn’t know who you were, so we just started calling you the Mother Goddess. Some people just call you Mother.”

“Where did it come from?” I asked, wondering why people chose that nickname over all others that may have crossed their minds.

Tony interjected again, and my eyes met his, “because you loved this world so much that you were willing to sacrifice yourself for every living being on it. You were the mother to the population of the world that day, loving every person so unconditionally and so instantaneously. The love the people had for you pulled the population of the Earth together. You saved so many people in New York, even after you had nearly died. You sifted through the rubble to rescue the survivors of buildings that had collapsed, and you stood against the danger to protect us all. You were a mother to the world, and the people here will never forget that,” he explained before the room around me began spinning.

I tried to focus my eyes on him but failed, the feeling being similar to the one I experienced when I was stabbed by Loki in New York. The wound on my abdomen began pulsing, and the pain made me want to scream, but still, I wouldn’t worry Tony with my problems, not when I was on Midgard to assist him with his own. As Harley spoke directly to Tony, my ears began ringing. It felt like that was it, like this was the end. As my chest began to tighten, I hurried out of the shack, mumbling something I couldn’t even hear to Tony. I hoped it was coherent enough to let him know that I just needed some air. If I was going to die, I wanted to do so alone to keep from hurting those who cared about me, and Tony was one of those people. He didn’t deserve to watch me die, not when he had been one of the few people who made me want to live.

Using all the strength I had, I stumbled out of the shack and out into the woods once more before falling to my knees. My body couldn’t hold itself upright as the pain flashed through my body over and over again, as if the wound itself was trying to light my very soul on fire. I fell to the forest floor, grunting in pain through gritted teeth. My eyes squeezed shut as I tried to will away the pain, desperately pulling as much air into my lungs as possible, wanting to taste the sweetness of life before the pain took me completely. The wound grew warmer and warmer, my skin feeling as if it was decaying around it. Nothing could have prepared me for the pain-nothing.

“Take them...please,” I heard a familiar voice in the distance, and just as quickly as the pain and panic arrived, it disappeared completely. When I opened my eyes, I gazed upon the scene in front of me. I was in the throne room on Asgard. For a moment, I wondered what was happening. Was I dead? Was I dreaming? I gazed out at the scene before me. Odin was seated on the throne, younger than he was when I knew him, but still beyond his prime. Frigga stood beside his throne, graceful as always. My father-Aaldir-stood on the other side of Odin as one of the Allfather’s most trusted advisors. Father looked much younger without a single grey hair upon his head. Before them stood a woman with her back turned to me. Black hair fell in wild waves across her back, and I sensed a familiarity in her even though I couldn’t see her face. It felt as if I knew her, like I could feel her very presence in my soul even in the vision. She sniffled, and my mind twisted as I remembered the dream I had, running through the the field.

“Why should I do anything you ask of me?” Odin barked out, using his one good eye to glare at the woman before him. I watched as Frigga winced at the harshness in his tone-something she often did when I confronted him about Loki.

The mystery woman’s body shook, and I sensed her fear, “I have nowhere else to take them. You are my last hope,” she cried, and I felt my heart twisting in pain for the poor woman. A soft cry confirmed what I had been thinking, what I hoped had not been true. A child. She was asking for him to take in her children, and I had a feeling I knew who it was, but I was too terrified to even say her name. She was the mistress of the night, the collector of life, the absence of light. I didn’t know why I was having these visions or if they were anything for me to think about further.

“Do you know what you’re asking of me?” Odin hissed, causing my body to seize. While I knew this was only in my mind, it was becoming harder and harder every moment not to lose myself. I stood up from the ground and walked toward the throne. My footsteps were so soft against the hard floor, they made no sound in the throne room.

“To help two defenseless children,” the woman answered, strength in her soft voice. Every word she spoke made a wave of serenity wash over me. I was not afraid, nor did I tremble like I usually did when Thor would tell me the tales about the mysterious entity, “do not think I’m asking this favor for myself; I am asking this for their sake. They will only know pain and suffering should they stay with me-they will only know fear.”

Odin stood from his throne but didn’t step down the stairs to be on level ground with her. I frowned as he spoke, “you come to Asgard, burden my throne room with your filth, and ask me to take the children of a demon like you. You ask me to humiliate my home and my people, to tarnish my name-”

She cut him off, her voice just as powerful as before. She was not a weak-willed woman, and I could tell that just from hearing her speak. Looking at it from the outside, it reminded me of how I spoke to Odin a few times in the past, especially when he refused to show Loki any mercy. While I felt her heart filling with sorrow and a diminishing hope, she didn’t falter as she fought on behalf of the children in her arms, “I ask you to protect children who belong here. A child is not responsible for the mistakes of their parent. They should not be held accountable for either of our decisions,” she explained as I continued to close the space between us, desperately wanting to see her face to confirm her identity.

Odin grumbled, his beard failing to conceal his frown of disdain. As he turned his back on the woman and sat back down on the golden throne, he let out a deep breath, “if you are so eager to pass them off into my care, you should know that I will treat them with little dignity. The offspring of Death and a serpent could never be trusted, let alone welcomed, in my home,” he hissed, his voice low and powerful. My eyes widened as he confirmed her identity. I heard the familiar sharpness in his tone, but he had no problem cutting her down-a mother only wishing to save her children, “leave them there on the floor, and I will have my guards take them to the dungeons where they will spend the rest of their lives.”

Just as Death began crying once more, burying her face into the cloth that swaddled her infant children, Frigga stepped forward, glaring at her husband, “you will do no such thing!” she admonished him, her voice piercing through the room as she stepped down to the floor Death stood upon, drawing nearer and nearer to to heartbroken intruder. Odin could do nothing but sit in a stunned silence as Frigga showed mercy to the same woman he had just been so cruel to, “bring them to me,” Frigga instructed her in a calm voice.

Death obeyed the commands of the queen, walking slowly over to her, and I waited with baited breath as she whispered words of love into the ear of the first child before placing him or her gently into the open arms of Frigga, the woman I would come to know as my mother. She was the closest I had to one growing up, and I couldn’t imagine my life without her. The first child was indistinguishable, beautiful but strong with piercing green eyes like the colors of spring all in one. Then, Death held up the second child, a girl with eyes more brilliant than emeralds, a green that matched the colors of spring. Her eyes were without imperfections. No other colors dared to taint the purity of that green. It was the same baby from the first vision I had of Death, but that time, I had the cold feeling I knew who it was.

My heart pounded in my chest as the entity of Death raised the child to her face, nuzzling her cheek against the smooth skin of the baby. I heard sniffles coming from Death, a woman I always believed was too cold to feel any emotion at all. She was the keeper of the dead, the bringer of the end-everything I was against. While I understood that death was a part of life, that all things would someday be reborn, she represented the absence of life itself. However, in that moment, seeing her cradling the small child so lovingly, I realized that I had been wrong, that every living being was capable of some form of emotion. Her cries broke my heart, as did it break the heart of the child in her arms, and I watched as the baby cried,

“Goodbye, Eva,” Death whispered, and my breaking heart stopped. My breath hitched in my throat as my greatest fear was just confirmed. It hadn’t been my own delusion that caused me to see the reflection of the child’s eyes in my own, the color mirroring that of mine. It wasn’t my mind playing cruel tricks on me when the heart of the child broke the same way mine did. Was it real, though? Was the vision just a part of the madness that arose due to the wound that left me feverish and disoriented? Was she...where I belonged? I couldn’t bring myself to think of such a thing. I valued life above all else, so it was impossible for Death to be...mine. She spoke again before my mind could fall further into the delirium, “I love you. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever given. Loving you was my greatest weakness, and leaving you is my greatest failure,” she whispered, her voice low and soothing as she rubbed the back of the small child.

“Leaving her here to protect her is the best thing you can do as a mother. Go. I will see to it that your children are cared for,” Frigga promised as she took the infant into her arms, cradling both of them the same way Death had been. Aaldir stepped down from the side of the throne and took the little girl...me. He cradled her close and closed the space between himself and the cosmic entity each one of us would meet at some point. Reaching out to her, he caressed her cheek, and just as he always did with me, he wiped her tears away with the pad of his thumb.

As I drew closer to her, standing directly behind her, I wished to wrap her in my arms. Even if this was all a hallucination with no meaning, her pain threatened to tear my very soul apart. As I felt the tears rising to my eyes, her soft voice began singing that familiar melody, the one I could remember all throughout my childhood but didn’t know where it came from, “I wish to stop time and stare at the stars, for just one more moment with you. Now stars shine brightest wherever you are, and they will shine on me no more,” she sang before turning around. Black eyes met mine, and black tears continued to stream down her cheeks. Her hand came up to caress my cheek, cold fingers wiping away the tears from my eyes. Just as I leaned into her touch, desperate for that connection, I found myself back in the woods.

Alone again.

37 notes · View notes

weheart-dianelockhart · 5 years

Text

So Little Time: Part Four

I’m back!! Here is part four (if you guys still remember what happened in the other chapters). The others are on my page and I will tag them with “so little time.” ENJOY!

With her stamina slowly returning, Diane began to resume small tasks. This particular morning, she turned her attention to making coffee. Kurt sat at the table facing the bay windows that filled the apartment with light. It was Saturday, a particularly chilly one, in late November. Diane managed to keep warm in one of Kurt’s flannels as she carried the two mugs to the table. She lingered at the doorway watching her husband read the paper. Closing the distance, she set the two mugs down and placed her hands on his shoulders letting her fingers drift up and down his arms. Tilting his head back, he looked up at her tousled hair surrounding her face.

Kissing his forehead, Diane took a seat beside him, propping her legs up onto his lap. Kurt folded the paper and removed his reading glasses.

“Thank you for the coffee.” He sipped and rubbed her feet with his free hand.

“How are you feeling?” He didn’t want to come across too pushy, but he’s been watching her like a hawk for the past two weeks since the accident. The doctors informed him that there was always a risk of infection which had put Kurt’s attention on high alert.

“Sore.” She pulled the paper toward her and put on his glasses, having left hers in the bedroom.

“Did you see they still haven’t found him,” she continued, referring to her attacker.

“I was just reading about it. I wouldn’t be surprise if he fled to Canada.” His hand rubbed up and down her lower leg.

“Well, if they can’t find him, I would rather he be in a different country than still in Chicago.”

Kurt didn’t reply, silently agreeing with her.

The couple drank their coffee, Kurt gazing out the window, and Diane solemnly reading the articles. This vaguely resembled normalcy for the pair. Enjoying their Saturdays at this very table discussing headlines, cases, or telling stories. In most cases, they would end up back in bed or on the couch (if they couldn’t wait long enough to make it to the bedroom) Except this was anything but normal.

“I need to go into the office today.” Her eyes didn’t leave the paper, knowing she would be met with a worried gaze.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She lowered the paper, but continued to read.

“You aren’t even looking at me.” He chuckled.

Flashing her eyes toward him, she squeezed the paper, “See!” She folded the paper and quickly got up from the table.

Turning his neck, he continued to chuckle, “I just don’t think you need to push yourself until—“

Diane clutched the door frame to steady herself. Kurt jumped up and grabbed her arm as she leaned into him.

“—until you stop taking the antibiotics.”

Diane kept silent, giving Kurt a hard side eye and a light elbow in the ribs. Picking up on her annoyance, he attempted to offer a solution.

“Why don’t I drive you?” Her eyes brightened, the dizziness had passed, and she headed for the stairs to get dressed. Pausing, she backtracked and placed a kiss on Kurt’s cheek.

Kurt knew he was not the cause of her annoyance. He was careful not to hover, an instinct he knew would drive her up a wall. Her grumpy demeanor came from wanting to get her life back to normal. She had remained the calm one durning all the mess and by taking things one day at a time, she was able to keep her worry at bay. Her assailant was no where to be found, which meant he could potentially hurt her again. But, what truly kept her up at night was the fear that he might go after Kurt. The man wanted her to suffer, he had said so himself, and she was terrified that he would hurt the one thing she loved most.

—-—

The short drive to the firm didn’t allow much conversation. Diane spent most of it on the phone reassuring a client that she would take care of this and that. At least that is what it sounded like from Kurt’s prospective. Pulling into the parking garage, Diane ended the call and turned to Kurt.

“So, I was thinking that you could come up with me. I’ll only be about 45 minutes and I could use your advice on a certain case.” He nodded simply, eager to be of assistance.

Only later would Diane reveal that she just wanted to keep him in her sight, as silly as it seemed. Plus, she truly did need his expertise.

The pair stepped into the elevator and found themselves alone. Saturdays eliminate the crowds that are usually flocking to the elevator at this hour. She slipped her fingers into his palm. He glanced at her face to rule out another dizzy spell, but her eyes were calm. Almost normal.

Two men in suits entered the elevator on the 13th floor. One carried a briefcase and spoke loudly into a phone while the other gave a friendly nod to Kurt. The man prevented any eye contact with Diane.

With a ding, the elevator opened and Diane stepped into the firm’s lobby. A hush fell over the room as people turned in Diane’s direction, surprised to see that she had returned. Adrian stepped around the corner, briefcase in hand and coat on, as he spoke loudly into his cell phone. As his eyes fell on Diane, he paused.

“I’m gonna have to call you back,” he dropped his briefcase to the floor and raised his arms, “Diane!” He shouted and the room erupted into applause.

Her face flushed. She gave a meek smile as Adrian gave her a tentative hug, careful not to disturb her abdomen. Maia and Marissa came speeding around the corner, both enveloping her in a hug.

“It’s so good to see you.” The two women gushed.

Before she could respond, Adrian intervened, “I will be back in an hour. I am so late for court. The emergency injunction for the Tracy Scott case.” He gave Diane a kiss on the cheek and boarded the elevator.

The fuss subsided and Diane made her way to her office, only to be met with a sea of flowers.

“They haven’t stopped coming,” Maia said as the four of them stood in the doorway gawking at the amount of greenery.

“Well, first thing, we clear out the greenhouse. I just stopped by to pick up a few files and have Kurt look over the Patterson murder.” She slowly maneuvered through the forest as Marissa removed the vases from her desk.

“Kurt, could you give me a hand?” Marissa practically begged as she attempted to carry three large vases. He picked up a few more and followed her into the hallway.

“I heard about the Moseley case. Congratulations.” Diane leaned on the edge of her desk, but after a chill ran through her spine, she moved to sit in her chair.

“Oh, well you pretty much left us with the strategy. We just got lucky with the evidence, that’s all.” Maia brushed off the complement.

“Maia,” Diane took her hand, “You did a good job. Thank you.”

Maia looked down and smiled, “You’re welcome.”

Diane turned to the file cabinets and began digging through them.

“So how are you really? I know I saw you a few days ago, but you seem to be in good spirits.”

Diane turned and sighed. She wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to be feeling at this point. There was physical pain that was a constant reminder, but she had been focusing all her energy on recuperating.

“I think I’m ok.” Maia squinted in confusion.

“You think?”

“I think Kurt is more rattled than I am. He’s being so careful not to get on my nerves it’s almost comical.” Diane, having found the desired file, sat back down in the chair.

“But how are you?”

Diane dug deep, finding that emotional spot that hurt worse than her wound. She sucked in air through her teeth and looked up at Maia. If she hadn’t spent the past few nights silently crying in fear, she would have broken down right there. But there were no more tears for the moment.

“I’m terrified.”

Finally speaking the words out loud, she felt a small weight lift off her shoulders as she continued.

“I can’t lose him.”

“Kurt?”

Diane nodded slowly.

“What makes you think you’d lose him?” Maia has never seen her godmother this distraught.

“The assailant said he wanted me to suffer like he did. His wife died,” she paused, “They haven’t found him yet and until they do I think I will be a nervous wreck.”

Maia was at a loss for words. She reached for Diane’s hand and she gratefully accepted the gesture. Maia noticed the bruises from the multiple IV lines in her hand.

“But I would never say that to him. I couldn’t.”

Her office door sung open as Marissa and Kurt walked in, both wore solemn expressions.

“What happened?” Diane asked, looking back and forth between the two.

“Oh. Nothing. Why?” Marissa forced a smile.

Diane was the first to break the awkward silence that had followed with a long exhale.

“Well then. Let’s begin with Patterson.”

Kurt and Marissa glanced at each other. They couldn’t tell her just yet.

#diane lockhart #kurt mcveigh #mchart #the good fight #the good wife #so little time #christine baranski #christina perri #part four

27 notes · View notes

masterturner · 5 years

Text

long drawn out personal post

this is a bit stream of consciousness, so if you’re reading this and trying to make sense of it, im sorry. its okay if youd rather not. its a lot and its emotional labour to even read it probably. it’s been almost a year since the breakup now. every day closer to the anniversary of it, i feel a little more broken. i’ve had two suicide attempts since then, a prolonged IOP thing, and i no longer see a therapist (though i really should start again). im not crying about borderline personality disorder though. this is all breakup shit. still. im still holding together somehow. i dont really know how, some days. ive gone through the whole cycle of grieving multiple times now, cycling again and again through denial and bargaining and all that, ‘til i reach acceptance and think the hurricane is at its end. then i find i’m just in the eye of the storm, and it’ll soon pass as i get caught up in the winds again. then i do the whole cycle over and over again. thats what the therapists in the IOP said it was. a grieving process. you can grieve the terminus of a relationship the same way you grieve a dead person. it sounds so silly when i make that comparison. they also said that progress and healing are nonlinear and that it’s not really necessarily going to be as simple as passing through the grieving process a single time. i said it sounds silly. its not silly though. its real, and i have to remind myself of that from time to time. i dont usually talk about anything personal on here, and its a little weird that im doing it now. but i guess im doing it because i dont know where else to do it. i could do it on facebook, but it feels attention-grabby, needy in a way i always feel weird being. doing it here under a little ‘read more’ thing feels less obtrusive and private, but not so private that im completely trapped in my own skull again. i hate feeling trapped in my own skull. the anxiety bubbled up and got bad again pretty constantly. it got that way tonight. i felt my heart race while i tried to sleep. usually the worst points stemmed from me looking my ex up and seeing how their life was progressing along without me. unlike me, my ex has a drive and interest in the performance of social media that i generally lack. my social media experience begins and ends in shallow ways: i look at cute butts on tumblr, reblog dumb memes and get vague impressions of things going on in the world and such through the sometimes nonsensical things other people reblog. thats about it. my ex, though, shes the kind of person that does things like update her facebook profile picture at least once in a 6 month period, unlike yours truly. i dont even follow her or have her friended anymore on facebook. heaven forbid i had an instagram to see what kind of stuff was going on there. it always got the worst when i saw her with her new SO. now i get to look at that every time i get the nerve to message her. its literally painful to even look to the extent i have to archive or delete every stray line of text we send to one another afterward. i was seriously in denial - i talked myself into believing the SO wasnt an obstacle, wasnt a big deal, he was just a rebound and it didnt invalidate me. it didnt make me lesser, and it didnt mean that i was being replaced. after all, what stranger can replace 5 years of memories and experiences together? but i was a rebound too, and that led to a deep and intense relationship. why couldnt it this time too? i was naive, i think. hopeful and naive, and i really wanted to believe this and that. ‘i know her’ i’d tell myself. ‘i know her, and i know she wouldn’t think this’ or ‘she wouldn’t do this’. but it’s wishful thinking. maybe a part of me always did know better. maybe i stopped listening to that part of my own psyche because i started to recognize how harmful it was. it’s kind of messed up how that works though? like... you can be happy with someone, but also be terrified of that day when they realize they can do better. and then it becomes a sort of twisted, fucked-up self-fulfilling prophecy because that thought sucks the life and passion out of you. it’s insidious and slow. and it’s tempting to look at it like ‘i was right all along, everyone will leave me’, but that’s not really how it necessarily is. thats just the trauma talking, the fear, the part of my mind that’s lazy and resigned to suffering and collapse. it was that fear that made it real. maybe if i’d learned to manage that fear, though, things could have been different. would have been different. it’s pointless to speculate on that though. the reason i say it isnt to speculate though, it’s because im trying to remind myself that it can apply to right now. the friendships and relationships i have now - few and far between as they may be, stretched thin as they may be, damaged and in dire need of repair as they may be - aren’t doomed to failure just because i’m afraid of loss and abandonment. the collapse doesnt have to be inevitable. maybe talking like i’ve learned and figured something out from all this will make me feel better. maybe believing it all had a purpose will make it feel like it was worth it. eventually. right now, though, it doesnt. i’m still so upset. i’m still miserable and i still long for things i can’t have. i miss affection. i miss being touched, even in a plain and nonsexual way. i miss being kissed and i miss being hugged. i miss being wanted, and every day i wonder if ill ever feel that again. and then i get to thinking, would it be enough to feel that from just anyone again? why do i feel so starved for... any kind of affection at all? why do i feel so desperate for something - anything like this? could anyone ever love me the way my ex did? i guess the cynical and plain answer to that is no, but thats okay. and maybe someone else can love me better. and maybe that desperate longing to be loved, cherished, cared about, touched, anything is just a symptom of an addiction that’s yet to pass. kind of a cold and clinical way to put it though, and i dont know if thats really me. yet i dont want someone else because its not enough to just have anyone. my ex left me, and now i still have that feeling of being invalidated, devalued, abandoned, and ultimately replaced. even if someone else came along and professed undying love for me, no matter how i welcomed it, that feeling of being tossed aside would remain. and i dont know how to come back from it. i hate how much my mind... fixates on it. like... everything makes me think of it. i cant make a status on facebook without wondering if my ex will see it, what she might think. i cant leave my house and go somewhere without wondering, what if my ex sees me? what would she think of what im doing? would she approve, or be proud of me? would it impress her? or would it disappoint her? it saps the joy out of almost everything i do. i cant watch an old show without feeling bad im watching it without her. i cant help but wonder if she feels the same, or if shes gotten over it. and a part of me doesnt want to know the answer to that wonder. does she still listen to mili? coheed? does she listen to ‘old flames’ on repeat like i do? when ‘sweater weather’ comes on, does she think of me or someone else? even now as i write this, i wonder if my ex still stops to peer at my dumb blog from time to time for a hint of how im doing and what im thinking. and i dont even know if id want to know, because seeing this message in that light casts a pall over it that makes me feel sick. i didnt want my ex to see how not okay i am. i didnt want her to see the part of me that feels so sick still. and i dont want to know that she doesn’t look at this either. so here i am at an impasse, writing words and tossing them into the void of the internet, hoping for and expecting only silence, while also hating and fearing the very same. id like to think that maybe this is a sign i dont care anymore, but i think i know better than to really believe that. i force myself every day to just... not reach out. not say anything to her thats real or vulnerable - the few times ive talked to her it feels forced and fake. and it feels like ive cut off a limb, because im so used to leaning and relying on her. but i feel like i have to, because expecting that level of emotional labour from someone that has cut those ties with me seems silly and foolish... not to mention selfish. why? maybe a part of me thinks that by hiding it, i’d win her back someday. or maybe im just afraid of being burdensome and difficult. or maybe i just... genuinely do want her to be happy without me. i wish it was that last one. i wish i could just back off and be happy that shes with someone else that maybe will treat her good in a way that i couldnt, or didnt. i dont know what i want, though. i know what i dont want though. i know i hate feeling like this and i wish i could make it stop, but i cant. its not really getting easier. i had the borderline shit before this, and i could end up meeting the criteria my whole life for all i know. the breakup is just a massive complication in that whole mess, but i dont know if id even know what was wrong with me if i didnt have that relationship in the first place. there was a day a few days ago, or maybe a week or two ago (i dont remember) where i wanted to hurt myself (not physically though for whatever reason), and in order to do it, i made myself do something i was starting to break the habit of doing. i browsed her facebook profile and scoured it for anything that’d make it sting again. i succeeded - it didnt take much. a few pictures, a relationship status change, that was pretty much it. my mind filled in the blanks after that because of course it did. it snowballed into full blown catastrophizing. they’re probably madly in love. they’re probably moving in together, if they havent’ already done so. they’re probably making plans to get married. they’re probably this and that and this and that - like it matters. like it affects me somehow. but it doesnt. not really, not physically anyway. i dont have to look, and its like i hope not looking will make it hurt less. but not looking makes me hope, and hope has bred more hurt than anything else in the past year. since i last looked her up in that fog of need to hurt myself emotionally, a lot of that dreadful hope i had that i could win her back drained away, and i want to believe that the pain will go away now. i havent talked to her since then. i still think about her. i still dream. i still fear and i still wonder and reflect. but i havent talked to her. is that good? is it bad? is it anything other than what it is? does it matter? maybe someday ill be over this. a part of me yearns for that. and a part of me is afraid to ever let go, because what if love wins in the end and all the time we had together meant something after all? did it not mean anything if it didnt end up taking the shape i wanted it to take? no, it still meant something, but does that matter now? i dont know. all i know is that to this day it hurts and... that’s all. thats all i know. eleven months later and it still hurts. but i guess expecting it to be all better after 5 years of dating is a little unrealistic. i thought we were gonna be together forever. forever is a long time, though, i guess. she makes it look easy, but maybe it isnt for her either, even if she’s better at making it look a certain way. i have no way of knowing and thats maddening in its own way. if i had the ability to close that distance... hear her out, be there for her, could i do it? could i get over my own fear and hurt to build a connection again? id love to find out. but i cant seem to get that far. it doesnt matter though. its her life, and she has every right to move on without me. its easy to say ‘poor me’, but theres two sides to every story. a lot of pain that led up to the end. questions i still have that will never go answered, and closure i might not ever obtain. ctrl+a, delete, backspace. that’s all it’ll take, tyler. then maybe you can sleep. but no, instead you’re going to post this. for what? why? is it a cry for help? complaining for the sake of complaining? i dont know. i cant leave it all in my own head though. but the silence that i get back in response is liable to be deafening all the same

#do not reblog this

2 notes · View notes

aftgficlibrary · 6 years

Text

Post-Canon

Here is a list of fics set after the books so we can live on even after the series ends (Note: due to the sheer amount of Post-Canon fics, this only includes completed fics and is an extremely long list)

light fires at night (to push back the void) by inthesea (M | 61,862 | 3/3)

The first time Andrew realizes he wants to hear the words, Neil isn’t even doing anything. He’s just sitting there, staring at the horizon with that stupidly dramatic faraway expression of his, and letting the cigarette burn down between his fingers all the way to the filter — an outrageous waste of good nicotine, if you asked Andrew.

(Or: 20+ times Andrew and Neil say I love you, and one time they say it out loud.)

Trust Fall (And Welcoming Arms) by SpangleBangle (E | 84,557 | 13/13)

Life goes on after the Foxes win the championship, and for Andrew and Neil it’s uncharted territory with only each other for guides. Maybe it’s time to put away some of those hard edges, and learn how to touch more softly, and speak more honestly. And if they falter, they have their family to help them get back on their feet.

right side of rock bottom by allyasavedtheday (M | 20,019 | 1/1)

Neil thinks it might be the first time he’s taken a breath in days.

He hadn’t realised it because he’d been so caught up in packing and saying goodbye to everyone but now that it’s over he remembers his self-imposed countdown was meant to be up by now. It’s the end of the school year and five months ago, he thought he’d be dead by now.

Instead he has a team and a future and a home and Andrew.

(The last two might be interchangeable.)

A little look into Neil and Andrew’s relationship after The King’s Men where they learn to touch, to talk and to trust.

The Name Game by minyrrds (G | 3,042 | 1/1)

What happens when Andrew and Neil change the names on their jerseys

something like home by nightswatch (T | 5,197 | 1/1)

Andrew keeps showing up at Neil’s apartment. But that’s what he gave him the key for, isn’t it?

lessons in trust by nightswatch (T | 3,609 | 1/1)

They don’t talk about what exactly they are, but Neil is more and more convinced that they’re on a good way to becoming something.

raze it to the ground by ilgaksu for badacts (T | 4,511 | 1/1)

It stops being about Neil entirely, and it starts being about this: Andrew is really, really fucking tired.

sugar, spice, and something nice by ephemeralsky (T | 6,258 | 1/1)

Andrew appears by his side seconds later, takes one look at the charred disaster, and says, “At least you did not burn the Tower down.”

Neil sighs. Happy birthday, he thinks mockingly as he chucks the brownie into the garbage bin.

(or: Neil finds a new hobby and indulges his family with sweets, Andrew indulges Neil, and they both can’t stop staring at each other)

a love song for the cliffhanger boys by ilgaksu for clockworkmoon (T | 1,680 | 1/1)

Some days, you work with what you got.

thorn in my skin by ephemeralsky (T | 5,861 | 1/1)

These days, both of them are able to sleep on the same bed without any weapons underneath their pillows and on their person, and Andrew is not sure what he wants to do with this knowledge. They have poured years into forging their armors, and now they are stripping them, piece by tattered piece.

(or: the five weapons Neil has at his disposal + the one weapon he wields without knowing it)

/Graphic Depictions Of Violence

next stop: nowhere by nightswatch (M | 8,117 | 1/1)

Neil and Andrew have a week to themselves and decide to hit the road.

i’ll carry you home by broship_addict (E | 4,257 | 1/1)

“I thought we agreed that you were getting rid of it. Not coming back with two.”

“We agreed that I would take the cat to the shelter. I did.”

Or, Andrew and Neil and their cats, in seven parts.

above us only stars by nightswatch (T | 2,206 | 1/1)

Neil wants to say that he is fine. He wants to say that Nathaniel Wesninski doesn’t own a single part of him.

The Days That Followed by lipsstainedbloodred (E | 7,410 | 1/1)

Andrew’s hand moved up further to Neil’s ruined cheek and he held a hand over it briefly. “These are not ugly,” Andrew said, forcing Neil to look up and face himself directly in the mirror, “You will not be ashamed of these. You will not shy away from your reflection because of them. These are not ugly.”

or, the fic where Neil is self conscious of his scars and Andrew forces him not to be.

Hold It Together (Until You Can’t) by Joana789 (M | 5,560 | 1/1)

Andrew holds his gaze just for a second longer before turning away, and Neil breathes in, because even if Andrew Minyard, with his extraordinary memory, remembers the date — which is likely, Neil knows — he gives no sign of it.

Neil thinks that perhaps it is carved into his memory only.

Exactly a year after Baltimore, Neil doesn’t expect to feel like this.

Kisses on Scars by rememberednoah (G | 1,941 | 1/1)

In which Andrew decides to kiss all of Neil’s scars. In which Neil isn’t quite sure how to react and feel about this.

Josten Has A Neck Fetish by keihtkogane (T | 2,301 | 1/1)

An full length ficlet extension of my tumblr headcanon which ends with Andrew revealing Neil has a neck fetish on live television.

–

Written for the anon who asked: omfg can i pleASE get an extension of the last part of your andreil and subtle touches headcanon? the part where andrew’s like “josten has a fucking neck fetish”

Every Choice Leads To You by SpangleBangle (G | 2,809 | 1/1)

Andrew knew they had to get up at some point, if only for the bathroom, but was loathe to hurry the moment along. He would take every greedy minute of Neil snug in his bed, for as long as he could. It was the choice he’d made years before, and the one he made every day when he saw Neil’s ‘good morning’ smile. He had a feeling it was a choice he’d be making for many years to come. And while that thought should be terrifying, with Neil sweet and content in his arms, fear was far away.

All Hail the Underdogs by wildfrancium (T | 25,411 | 10/10)

Ten years after Neil Josten becomes Neil Josten, life is full of Exy and Andrew. And then they decide to try fostering a kid.

Late Night, Welcome Home by ThePackWantstheD (T | 1,160 | 1/1)

“I thought Andrew shredded those pants,” Kevin answered.

Neil’s lips quirked further up. “Wymack got me another pair.”

“What did I do to deserve this kind of punishment?” Kevin asked. “You’re the problem child.”

Fighting Heavy Shoulders by OrdinaryVegan (T | 2,718 | 1/1)

He would stick a knife in the throat of anyone who tried to make him admit it, but Andrew was actually a little concerned about Neil running this race. From what he can tell, this can go one of two ways. Option one: Neil would be reasonable and just survive the race. Run at a sensible pace, make it across the finish line alive, and keep his mouth shut the next time some asshole reporter starts harassing him. Option two: Neil, because he is Neil, would try way too hard to keep up with the people who actually put in a lot of time training for these things. He would pull a muscle or pass out on the course, and Andrew would have to drag his ass to the nearest hospital, which would really throw a wrench in Andrew’s weekend plans of doing absolutely nothing. Not even to mention the absolute hissy fit Kevin would throw if Neil were injured. If Andrew were a betting man, his money would go to option two.

—

Wymack follows through on his threats, and Andrew is a protective asshole in love.

built this house on memories by modernpatroclus (T | 4,138 | 3/3)

Prompt: OMG when i was reading ur last andreil fic i started thinking “okay but what if neil woke up and didNT REMEMBER ANDREW” CAN U MAKE THIS HAPPEN I WILL PAY U

Or: Neil gets amnesia and can’t remember anything past the night he was drugged in Columbia.

Something Borrowed by Pi (Rhea) (T | 7,266 | 1/1)

After graduation, Neil and Andrew go on a road trip to return particular items to Neil’s mother’s contacts.

Or: two times Neil visited the Henrietta, Virginia.

Perfect by SpangleBangle (G | 1,547 | 1/1)

Ten years on, and things are just perfect.

But Broken Pieces Make Beautiful Mosaics by lipsstainedbloodred (T | 1,926 | 1/1)

Neil Josten is a broken, damaged thing. Pieces of a tattered personality and a traumatized mind, scared and skittish with one foot always out the door. And on Nathaniel Wesninski’s birthday, he runs.

Pillow Talk by zayndehaan for ohwhatanight (M | 3,826 | 1/1)

Neil finds a new fear, and doesn’t know how to bring it up without sounding foolish.

(a.k.a. lots of snuggling and banter and feelings)

Take Another Drag by OrdinaryVegan (T | 2,233 | 1/1)

Andrew knows exactly who Travis is. Travis William Patterson, 27 years old, 6’3” backliner from middle of nowhere, Texas, current starter for the Boston Hurricanes, #9. As a matter of fact, Andrew is looking at him right now. ESPN is showing Exy highlights from last weekend, and Neil’s team just happens to be up at this very moment.

The Neil on screen has just performed some ridiculous move that absolutely should not have ended with a goal but somehow did, and he is immediately met with high-fives from his teammates and an affectionate-looking hug from Travis. Andrew can most certainly be objective, and this exchange looks pretty platonic. But Andrew is also a man attracted to men, and he has to admit that Travis is good looking. Really good looking.

Neil seems to be spending a lot of time with his new friend, and Andrew is Not Jealous.

dreamed in red by Frostandcoal (M | 7,261 | 1/1)

Four times the nightmares don’t win, and one time they almost do. Post-canon.

Minyard-Josten: A Rivalry For The Ages by dustbottle (M | 4,203 | 1/1)

After four years of playing together at Palmetto State University, Neil and Andrew end up on different professional teams. Neil is the new striker for the Atlanta Hawks; Andrew is goalie for the Boston Rebels. This is the story of their so-called rivalry.

Three guesses as to who starts the rumours.

(Spoilers: It’s Neil.)

Inside the Outsider by ouroboros for finkpishnets (M | 2,215 | 1/1)

It is little things like that that make this okay. Small rules, steps to follow: Pants staying buttoned, Neil’s hands where he can see them, no words but “Yes or no.” And, now, door locked. Check.

(Andrew looks back on the first time he does more than kiss Neil)

uncurling lifelines by Frostandcoal (M | 3,202 | 1/1)

That Andrew likes Neil being vocal in bed – that’s a key, and Neil intends to use it. This is something that Neil can give Andrew, a thing Andrew likes, that doesn’t involve touching or crossing boundaries Andrew is not yet ready for Neil to cross.

Besides, if Neil is good at anything besides Exy, it’s running his mouth.

Or: Neil learns that Andrew “I’m An Instigator At Heart And So Are You” Minyard might just like hearing Neil express not only his consent, but his enthusiasm, when they’re in bed.

back and forth by broship_addict (T | 2,573 | 1/1)

Years later Andrew and Neil find themselves revisiting Palmetto. It’s a lot more fun than Andrew’s ready to admit.

Lost Boy by the_ocean_burned (M | 6,401 | 1/1)

A look through Andrew’s eyes during some of the major events in the series.

Since I did use scenes and quotes from the series, I’m going to put a disclaimer on this one: All copyright rights to the characters, dialogue, and canon events belong solely to Nora Sakavic. I don’t own any of it; please don’t sue me. I’m broke.

The Self I Am by dustbottle (E | 5,536 | 1/1)

Though Neil and Andrew have been on the same professional team for years, the Minyard-Josten rivalry is still going strong. No one has caught wind of the truth of their relationship – but maybe it’s time for that to change.

(Or: Neil and Andrew decide to come out. This is how it happens.)

late night by Frostandcoal (G | 2,355 | 1/1)

People think that Exy “saved” him, but they are wrong. Exy is not a savior – there are no saviors for people like Andrew.

In which Andrew Minyard decides to pay it forward thanks to an all-night bodega, terrible ice cream choices and a cashier who just happens to play collegiate Exy.

out of breath by Frostandcoal for tycutiovevo (G | 3,418 | 1/1)

For tycutiovevo, who wanted Andreil in cold!weather, no angst. I hope you like this, bb! <3! <3!

Neil wants to live his life like he plays Exy – he wants the freedom to take chances, he wants the thrill of last-second goals, he wants the exhilaration of pushing his body to its limits, wants the ache and burn of every single bruise and scrape. His body is marked by other people’s cruelty and other people’s choices made on his behalf – he wants to cover it with the marks of the life he chose for himself.

Neil doesn’t understand what a “blizzard” is, and thinks it’s a good idea to go running in one. Andrew is not impressed.

Delayed Reaction by run_for_me (T | 3,035 | 1/1)

It’s been so long since he’s felt anything but affection for Nicky that he’d almost forgotten there was time when he’d been viscerally and intensely afraid of him.

In which the events of Neil’s first visit to Eden’s Twilight are finally addressed a year later.

I Want to Hold Your Hand by conniptionns (T | 5,009 | 4/4)

If this was Allison and Renee it would be cute and fluffy and very Across the Universe for this song, but it’s Andrew and Neil so

until the end of the world by broship_addict (T | 2,731 | 1/1)

Twenty years, two cats, and a whole lot of sports-related injuries later, they’re still home.

light it up by broship_addict (T | 1,879 | 1/1)

Neil Josten is probably the only person in the world capable of getting Andrew into an ugly Christmas sweater.

missing you (is all i am) by dustbottle (T | 2,677 | 1/1)

After graduating college, Andrew starts his professional Exy career as goalie for the Boston Rebels. Meanwhile, Neil is in his fifth and final year at Palmetto State University. Being apart turns out to be harder than either of them expected, and adjusting is a struggle.

When Neil visits Andrew in Boston, things come to a head.

maybe just the touch of a hand by niallszayn (G | 1,822 | 1/1)

All the Foxes come to Nicky and Erik’s wedding. Bets are made, and no one ever understands Andrew and Neil’s relationship.

Careless by Poteto (G | 1,474 | 1/1)

Matt likes to think Neil is done saying things that will get himself killed. Andrew disagrees.

way i tend to be by Frostandcoal (G | 1,665 | 1/1)

For erinaceinae-lutrinae on tumblr, who gave me the following prompt:

“Someone on Neil’s pro-team decides his nickname should be junior, and Neil does not take it well.”

Blossom Under Kindness by dustbottle (E | 3,433 | 1/1)

After Neil’s first year as a professional Exy player, Andrew and Neil spend their summer together in Columbia. There are good days and bad days. Today is a good day.

take my breath away (you know i’m bound to choke) by essenceofheroism (Not Rated | 1,620 | 1/1)

or the one in which andrew dreams neil runs away.

We Can Be Soft by SpookyMiscreant (M | 20,229 | 13/13)

Andreil and their daily lives. Fun ensues as always. Some of my HCs and some HCs from Tumblr. This has no plot or timeline please forgive me.

of being happy by artemis_west (E | 4,774 | 1/1)

On his flight home, Neil could barely sit still. He kept going back to his phone and staring at the message on his screen, the last one he’d received from Andrew:

I’ll be there.

Sounds Like a Good Excuse for Coming Home by OrdinaryVegan

Andrew is stressed, and Neil is problematic. Long-distance can be rather inconvenient, especially when your not-boyfriend is a murder magnet.

Summer Showers by Previously8 (T | 1,852 | 1/1)

Includes, but is not limited to: lots of staring, one (1) mention of chia seeds, Neil Josten’s new phone, the colours blue, green, and orange, talk of walls, a visit to Home Depot, and "452%”.

Rated T for swearing.

billboard. by lolainslackss (T | 2,940 | 1/1)

“Even when I turn away I can’t unsee it,” Aaron continued, his back to the rest of them, “It’s disgusting.”

…

Neil follows Kevin’s advice and agrees to be part of an ad campaign for Exy shoes. This ends up with Neil’s face on an eight-hundred-foot-wide moving billboard, and he’s not at all sure what to make of it. Neither is everyone else. Especially when Andrew notices everything.

Right Here in the Light by OrdinaryVegan (T | 2,398 | 1/1)

It takes all of his willpower not to physically react from shock when he finds Piper curled up tightly on Andrew’s chest, King tucked behind the bend in her knees. His surprise is two-fold. First, he can’t believe he slept through another person being added into their bed. And second, he can’t believe that Andrew is actually asleep in his current position. His arm is wrapped tightly around Piper’s shoulders, the entirety of her small upper body resting on his chest. Neil can do nothing but stare in awe at the pair of them. He thinks of how far they’ve all come, each of them with their own unique struggles, and his sentimentality nearly gets the better of him.

“Staring,” comes Andrew’s low voice, disguised by disuse. All these years, and Neil still doesn’t know how he does that. His eyes aren’t even open. Ridiculous.

A few members of the domestic Andreil household find themselves awake in the middle of the night. In other words, Andrew Minyard is the best father in the universe, and no one will convince me otherwise.

this calls for a toast by Frostandcoal (G | 1,872 | 1/1)

Three years ago, Andrew Minyard threatened to kill her if she ever spoke to him. She hasn’t, but only because she’s had nothing to say.

Until today.

It’s Katelyn’s wedding day, and she’s got a little something to clear up with her brand-new brother-in-law.

As the Fire Spread by OrdinaryVegan (T | 2,022 | 1/1)

Neil’s weight beside him is now familiar and even a comfort, sometimes. But on the occasions when Andrew’s senses are on overdrive and the smallest movement feels like an avalanche, an earthquake, a fucking planetary realignment, Neil knows better than to take Andrew’s abandonment personally.

Neil’s hoodie is thrown over the back of his desk chair, so Andrew makes his way over to dig out the pack of cigarettes from the pocket. He thinks he could light it with just the fire on the edge of his tongue, but he grabs a lighter from the drawer just in case.

—

Neil wants to help. Andrew just wants to breathe without feeling like his lungs will go up in flames.

Weddings and Other Kinds of Vows bya_case_for_wonder (T | 12,328 | 1/1)

“Lord, Andrew, you’d think you hadn’t been dating the guy for half a decade!” Nicky said. “When is he going to ask you to marry him, of course!” Andrew had known it was coming, but it still felt like the world slowed down a little. The question hung in the air between them like an ugly spell, until Andrew shook himself enough to answer. “He’s not going to ask me.“

Nicky is finally getting married, the third Fox wedding in as many years. Andrew is just trying to get through it, Neil is just trying to have a good time, but with all this love in the air, their friends keep insisting on asking questions they are Not Ready For. They try to work through it together.

Time is Standing Still by OrdinaryVegan (G | 1,441 | 1/1)

Andrew and Neil have a daughter, and she is an actual ray of sunshine.

Leave Me on the Tracks by OrdinaryVegan (T | 2,092 | 1/1)

If this had happened a few years ago, Andrew would have stood by and watched him leave. No argument, no attempted persuasion. Because that’s what people do. They leave, or they treat you badly enough that you leave first. People are never worth the trouble.

But not this time. The past decade with Neil has made Andrew come to terms with the fact that this means something. Andrew is rather shocked to find that he believes he himself should be enough to make Neil stay. That he is worthy of it. That he wants Neil to stay, and he will be damned if he lets him go without a fight. Andrew is asking. And if that won’t make Neil stay, nothing will.

In which Neil tries to protect Andrew, and Andrew tells him to get over his hero complex.

Patch Your Wounds by OrdinaryVegan (T | 2,290 | 1/1)

“Really, Neil,” Andrew drawls. He could have chosen to phrase it as a question, but Neil knows he isn’t surprised. It’s more of an acknowledgement of Neil’s apparent inability to remain injury-free. “You’ve been here for less than forty-five seconds, and you’re already bleeding on my carpet.”

—

In which Neil is a klutz, the cats are a nuisance, and Andrew is his own special brand of helpful.

I Want You To Know by kayxpc (G | 733 | 1/1)

one love, one house by freefall for cats-are-assholes (T | 2,592 | 1/1)

It’s the little things that make an apartment into a home, that make a sequence of moments into a life.

Or, five times Andrew hates that damn couch, and one time he thinks it isn’t so bad.

Missed This (Not as much as You) by kayxpc (E | 2,087 | 1/1)

Neil and Andrew finally get a weekend off of their professional teams and pickup exactly where they left off.

Hidden by kayxpc (G | 2,000 | 1/1)

His Father’s Eyes by maeusetod (Not Rated | 3,012 | 1/1)

Sometimes Neil had thought about, when and under which circumstances he would hear the name Nathaniel again, but he had not expected it to happen like this.

Shut Up, Baby by aftgandreil (arituzz) (E | 693 | 1/1)

“Can you not call me Josten when we are about to have sex?” Neil protests, tugging the hem of his shirt up and over his head.

“What do you want me to call you, then? Asshole?” Andrew says with a smirk on his face, already taking his boxers off.

“Fuck, no. Just–” The advances they’ve made so far have been amazing, Neil thinks, engraving the sight of his naked lover in his head. He can’t help biting his lower lip at the vision in front of him. They’ve come this far, which is more than Neil could have ever hoped for. He guesses it won’t hurt to try for a tinsy little bit more. Locking his eyes with Andrew’s, he says, “Call me baby.”

restless by wesninski for lorcathegreat (G | 2,121 | 1/1)

It’s an expression of restlessness, the kind of bout of spontaneous recklessness at which Neil has always excelled. A new city with new teammates and a new apartment and new stress, and Neil turns to Andrew one summer night, the smell of cigarette smoke mingling with the perfume of Andrew’s flowers on the balcony because they haven’t picked the lock to the roof yet, and says, “let’s get out of here.”

Or: Andrew and Neil go on a road trip and bring the cats along. They should have just found a cat sitter.

if things went differently by yuhee (T | 1,810 | 1/1)

The day Neil Josten disappeared on the Foxes, he had died in a fire incident along with his father and his men. Or so they said. Because Andrew now sees the man in flesh and bones at a city in England after two years.

this place is a shelter by Joana789 (T | 1,786 | 1/1)

”Well,” Andrew says, and the answer feels raw on his tongue. ”Someone has to make sure you don’t run again.”

ask me no questions (and i might not cuss you out) by WingsOfWax (T | 2,77 | 1/1)

Neil’s and Andrew’s relationship becomes public - without their permission. It’s annoying because now they have to actually deal with it. Neil gets more than a little rude when someone asks the wrong kind of question.

"Call me Marcus; he’s strong and noble.” by AroPeterWam (E | 6,899 | 1/1)

“Which one is Sir Fat Cat McCatterson? And why does he have a long name? I like the name King Fluffkins, but isn’t that too many noble titles for the cats?” Marcus, slowly coming out of his shell reached under the coffee table for one of the cats. – In which Neil and Andrew come across a boy who might not be like any of their stray cats.

wake your ghost by Frostandcoal (G | 2,741 | 1/1)

“Kevin’s been obsessed with Riko Moriyama his entire life. It’s going to take more than a bullet to stop that.”

The amount of mental energy Kevin has wasted on Riko is like a faucet, and Andrew has yet to see any definitive proof that Kevin’s ready to turn off the pipes.

In which Kevin has Complicated Feelings ™, Neil does not approve, and Andrew does not care. And Andreil!Banter, for it is like crack unto me, and I love them :|

Close & Closer by kayxpc (E | 1,290 | 1/1)

Andrew & Neil map another safe place out in their relationship

You & Me by kayxpc (E | 782 | 1/1)

A bottom Andrew fic because the fandom is in need of more and I couldn’t get it out of my head.

Here With You by kayxpc (G | 295 | 1/1)

Andrew and Neil sleep together after being apart for far too long

an acceptable surprise by kayxpc (G | 1,181 | 1/1)

permanent key//permanent home by kayxpc (T | 1,025 | 1/1)

Andrew visits Neil

She Was Found by OrdinaryVegan (T | 1,591 | 1/1)

"We’ve been over this and over this. We have looked at it from every possible angle. We agreed on this, that this is what we both want. You agreed to get over your daddy issues, and I agreed to actively ignore every parenting example I’ve ever had. Right?”

Neil nods his head once with a little too much force to be convincing. “Right.”

“Okay,” Andrew says, not really sure if it was loud enough for Neil to hear. He tightens his hand on Neil’s neck, pulling him closer until their foreheads are touching. Neil’s hand has made it up to hang off of his bicep, gripping like it’s the only thing keeping him on the ground. Andrew fights to keep his voice as even as possible. “Neil. You have to tell me that you’re in this all the way. This is permanent. Once we sign those papers, she is ours. Forever. I refuse to send her away. I will not be like them,” he says, fiercely. “Do you want this?”

AKA Piper: The Prequel

Sundays by celestia (G | 887 | 1/1)

A lazy sunday

something just like this by kayxpc (G | 566 | 1/1)

happy holidays from the foxes by artemis_westfor OneSweetMelody (G | 5,446 | 1/1)

This is my gift exchange for Jules, who wanted Fox family bonding during the holiday/post-grad! A fic set in the future after the books, when all the Foxes have their kids. They have a yearly reunion during the holidays! Soft andreil living their happy life, Andrew healing and having a better relationship with Aaron and Nicky, everyone is happy and sappy. Merry Christmas!

Always by merlypops for badtemperblue (G | 583 | 1/1)

“Am I annoying you?” “You always do,” Andrew said, cradling Neil’s cheek gently before he shoved his face away again. “Always, Josten.” Neil’s heart squeezed in his chest with something that felt dangerously like happiness. He was glad that name was still alive. He was glad he was still around to hear it. He was glad Andrew wasn’t gone.

Neil and Andrew on a plane. Fluff ensues.

smile, smile, smile by mikeymomoo (G | 744 | 1/1)

andrew is getting groceries and a fan spots him. he fucks with him.

All We Ever Knew by OrdinaryVegan (G | 1,317 | 1/1)

Robin comes to Neil for life advice, and he is surprisingly helpful.

Phone Calls by celestia (G | 3,339 | 1/1)

It’s Andrew’s birthday. Even though he and Neil don’t celebrate birthdays, Andrew always gets three phone calls on his birthday.

tell me pretty lies by kayxpc (G | 754 | 1/1)

Andrew and Neil apartment shop after Andrew graduates.

out & proud by kayxpc (G | 1,417 | 1/1)

Same sex marriage is finally legalized in Germany and the foxes come to support Nicky and Erik! Lots of love and happiness in this fic, angst who?

Eventually by writerforlife (T | 850 | 1/1)

Eventually, Andrew Minyard found his version of happiness.

Weddings in Germany by kayxpc (G | 978 | 1/1)

all the foxes visit Germany for Nicky and Eriks wedding! :) pure andreil fluff ahead

New Places by Q_Jem_Bee (M | 937 | 1/1)

That was the greatest thing about this, about them.

They had all the time in the world.

[Podfic] right side of rock bottom byfrecklebombfic (frecklebomb) for Fleur Rochard (fleurrochard) (M | 20 | 1/1)

Author’s summary: Neil thinks it might be the first time he’s taken a breath in days.

Instead he has a team and a future and a home and Andrew.

(The last two might be interchangeable.)

Permanence by justapipe-dream (ginita105) (T | 702 | 1/1)

Neil wasn’t the reason for Andrew’s newfound stability, but he had been the eye opener. Neil had taught him that not all humans wanted to break the glass walls he built around himself, some had the decency to find the door and knock.

For the Vagabonds by OrdinaryVegan (T | 1,301 | 1/1)

Neil and Andrew versus the Maserati and the mountains.

Out by Q_Jem_Bee, shewhoisntnamed44 (G | 4,378 | 1/1)

Chris was lucky enough to have a co-worker who Neil Josten owed a favour to – and was about to launch her journalism career through the roof.

Beg and Borrow and Steal by OrdinaryVegan (T | 3,349 | 1/1)

Andrew and Neil are dragged into a school dance by their certified Sassmaster and Ray of Sunshine daughter.

pull me back by thetinyconstellation for lethargicawe (T | 2,032 | 1/1)

Neil has a bad day and his boyfriends do what they can to help. Well, if he lets them.

Children of the Universe by aceaaronminyard (necklace) (Not Rated | 1,630 | 1/1)

in which aaron and andrew figure their shit out with only a minimal amount of bruises

“If Aaron is being honest, Andrew looks like a spawn of Death herself; dark and weathered and just as lethal. Aaron smiles cruelly at the glare Andrew fixes him, and for the first time in months, feels galaxies explode in his lungs and make a home under his fingernails.”

mel i mató by R_Gunns (T | 1,934 | 1/1)

Being away from Andrew was harder than Neil had anticipated. Missing him was loud, thinking about him was like a cacophony of sounds, a discordant mess of sensory memories that Neil couldn’t make sense of.

(Neil’s final year at Palmetto is over, and he’ll be moving in with Andrew soon. In the meantime, he pines.)

home (is whenever i’m with you) by nightquills for apear55 (G | 2,067 | 1/1)

It’s been weeks since he saw Andrew last, and Neil can’t wait to finally see him in person, have him near, hear his voice without the tinny echo of a phone call between them.

Neverland is home to lost boys like me byjustapipe-dream (ginita105) (G | 627 | 1/1)

‘Oh, how lucky you are,’ it said, ‘Two lost boys found their Neverland in each other.’

proper punishment for an angel by artemis_west (E | 5,912 | 1/1)

Neil’s mouth gets him in trouble. What else is new?

In which… by Nikotheamazingspoonklepto (Not Rated | 22,238 | 1/1)

…the Foxes get the love they deserve. ~ This fic is a story of growth, character development, and happiness, where Neil loves his Fox family in varying degrees, ranging from platonic to romantic or sexually. Beginning at the start of Neil’s Sophomore year at PSU, he is becoming more confident, self-assured, and a happy person, supported by his original Fox family and learning how to be a leader toward the six Freshman that arrived at PSU.

Ice Cream by kayxpc (E | 944 | 1/1)

Nora’s tweets have inspired andreil smut. It’s what they deserve.

[Podfic] The Name Game by frecklebombfic (frecklebomb) for Fleur Rochard (fleurrochard) (G | 18 | 1\1)

Author’s summary: What happens when Andrew and Neil change the names on their jerseys.

Independence Day by imagined_melody (G | 1,054 | 1/1)

Neil Josten graduates from Palmetto State University on May 12—five years to the day after he arrived.

In which a life transition falls on an important date, and Neil deals with the prospect of his life changing again.

To heal a wound, you need to stop touching it bywesninskids (Not Rated | 2,203 | 1/1)

Some nights, Kevin Day jerks awake with the weight of his past. These nights, Neil’s there to pull him back to the present.

Sunday Mornings by cleopatras (T | 1,178 | 1/1)

how Neil and Andrew spend a Sunday morning in their home in San Clemente

three keys by lovelyloss (T | 516 | 1/1)

andrew thinks about the three keys neil and him share. [my descriptions are bad whoops]

Another Lonely Christmas by SpookyMiscreant (G | 1,112 | 1/1)

This is a gift for ten-paces-fire for the aftg winter exchange! Kevin is stuck playing Exy overseas instead of in Columbia with his family for christmas.

this is it by morticianists (T | 207 | 1/1)

the future isn’t as bleak as it used to be.

Neil is forbidden to have a relationship with Andrew by his new contract by Vinjana (G | 586 | 1/1)

Neil, who joined Andrew’s team, doesn’t read his contracts…

a haze of fleeting moments by luna_lovegood (G | 2,666 | 1/1)

Renee looked at her as she sat up on the couch and undid her braid, eyes bright and lips stained red. “Alright,” Renee agreed. “That sounds like fun. Do you have any nail polish?”

“Chanel or Essie?” Allison shot back and smirked.

(Or, five moments Renee spent with people she cared about.)

“Why did you name it Burrito?’ by AroPeterWam (Not Rated | 6,828 | 1/1)

“So, is this language barrier ever going to end?” It was Dan who spoke, seemingly entertained by them as she rubbed her temples. – Marcus meets the Foxes and other issues his dads help him through.

You Found Me by howmanyshipscanashippership ( T | 1,539 | 1/1 )

Andrew wakes up a few days after the Foxes win the championships from a nightmare. He wants to look to Neil for comfort and wonders when that became a thing. He falls back asleep and remembers various scenes from when Andrew first met Neil and then things some more about that. Andrew never says to Neil "I love you" but it is heavily implied.... so cannon compliant.

#masterlist #postcanon #i am so sorry this took forever but phew there was a lot of them #andreil #andrewminyard #neiljosten #kandreil #kevinday #renison #reneewalker #allisonreynolds #theme:postcanon

608 notes · View notes

shrimpcache · 3 years

Text

Journal 3, 6/28/21

this time, from italy!

Its been a good, good time. I dont have to worry about anything; nothing exists here that must be dealt with immediately lest we face dire consequences. Ive been thinking it these weeks, but it just seems that life moves a lot slower where i am. I dont want to romanticize a country im only visiting, as i dont know the problems they face and the troubles they have to work around, but at least from my perspective, life here seems to be a life id enjoy living more. Perhaps if it wasnt so hot id change my name and move here. or maybe france, since i know more french...or sweden? Somewhere not north carolina, somewhere where the people are nice, somewhere where i feel i can be something. in north carolina, i am no one. I went to school and my teachers have already forgotten me, or they will soon. I was never enough to get attention; never good enough, never loud enough, and i could have been something to someone if anyone tried to spend the time to let me. But my melancholy of my perpetual lostness in the place meant to be my home isnt what i want to talk about; it’s always there, in the back of my head, and at least for now it can stay that way.

The buildings here are beautiful. Smooth stone with vibrant oranges and pinks and greens. The shutters here, solid wood, nearly all of them a rich and heavy brown, are real and they serve a purpose. During the day, the shutters stay closed as to let what little cool there is stay trapped inside, and to keep the burning rays of the sun out. The sun sets around 9:30, and by july, it’ll still be light past 11. But the wind between the buildings in the cobbled town is cool, and the water is spring fed, and a freezing mountain river runs down just a few minutes down the road. The mountains in the distance are lined with white, highlighted on their ridges and valleys, and the runoff over the rocks of the river is crystal blue. if it weren’t so frigid, it would be idyllic.

We stayed in venice for two days, and there was barely any tourists in sight. Few travellers due to covid meant the streets were bearable, and the shade from all the buildings and the wind from the grand canal made for great weather. Though, its only been reinforced in my mind that any beautiful street turns terrifying at night. So much safety in my head relies on the presence of a crowd; the thought that if i screamed, someone would hear, and people would come running. We went to these two italian boys’ house, and left at 3am after smoking some hash and drinking, but I felt completely sober as we made the 20 minute trek home through empty streets. It felt more claustrophobic with no one there, like my vision had suddenly closed up and the streets ceased to be connected. When i turned around out of precaution, there was a figure there. I also dont know why ive turned on my writers brain, but something about being here and not writing for however many months has me wanting to wax poetic.

Anyways. Here begins my scary story! If anyone besides me reads this, tw for sexual harassment.

So. theres a male figure behind us. We have our arms linked, both of us women under 5′5 and under 140 pounds, with alcohol and THC in our brains. I couldn’t feel either when i saw the guy. I tend to be paranoid, no matter what; when we were going to join the previous boys for a smoke, the whole time i wondered if these streets would close behind us, and they would remember how much we drank and the way we stumbled. But they were fine. We turned down a road to avoid the man behind us, and to my horror, it was a dead end. So we sat, and we waited silently, my friend holding her full metal waterbottle as a baton should someone round the corner to find us. We listened; footsteps echo through stone walls easily, so we assumed we’d hear when he passed. Silence for a minute. We continued.

He had waited. He was looking down at his phone, and when we reemerged, walking quickly, he resumed. After seeing the way we rushed, trying to leave him behind, desperately paying attention to google maps (without wifi, without service. No one was in reach), he called, “sorry! Sorry! im not trying to scare you guys! Sorry!”

we didn’t care. we stopped, and said, “Okay, then you can pass us.”

instead, he stopped to talk, saying we didn’t have to be afraid because he was gay (i dont think he was gay.) He said, “as my sorry for scaring you guys, i can walk you to the rialto!”

we didn’t say where our hotel was, just that we needed to get to the rialto bridge. for some reason, we didn’t say no, we know how to get there. Maybe we both had the thought that it was better to have a strange man than no man at all; the united states engrained in us that women alone are women in danger. and we felt in danger. As we walked, we tried to make conversation so that we didnt seem so afraid. We were gay too, our parents are the floor above us in the hotel (they werent. they were on another island), that they were waiting for us. Saying we’re gay too was a mistake, perhaps, because he took the inch as if it were a mile.

He started by saying he liked when women peg him. That he likes in it in the ass. We nod along, uncomfortable, not changing the subject for some reason. He stops after a while. We move through plazas, passing a few people, a group of police, heading towards the grand canal. I have my phone checking for dead ends the entire time. If he didnt want to scare us, why would he start talking about sexual things so much? that he liked girls who use strap ons? did he think liking anal made him gay? he was skinny, and my friend would flash her pseudo baton every time he stepped to close. we could easily beat him, but we didnt want that to happen.

We were close to the bridge when he asked my friend if he could come to our hotel and she would fuck him with a strap on. We both said NO, she said i dont have one. he said that she could just use her fingers. In my head, an escalation had occurred. It had gone from talking about his sexual preferences to revealing that he wanted one of us to do that to him; that he wanted something from us. that he was thinking about her fucking him. that we were suddenly involved in his desires that we hadn’t wanted any part of. It was my last straw. We quickened our pace, and i waved and said “We know where we are now. You can make your way back home, thanks for walking us!” and we left. we did everything but sprint; we went to our hotel and i could feel adrenaline under my skin, still buzzing. It made me feel sick. A few minutes later we agreed it had been sexual harrassment, talking like that to us when we spoke nothing of it, after he had approached us in a dark alley in a country we dont speak the language of. When i think about it i still feel gross.

But other than that, its been a great time! end of this journal for now, i have tax documents to attend to. oh what weird memories im getting here.

#journal #journal 6/28/21

0 notes

tumblunni · 7 years

Text

OH MAN HOLY SHIT IM FINALLY GETTING TO READ THE NEXT VOLUME OF SHOULDER-A-COFFIN KURO

man it was really fucking sweet that bunch of friends the travellers made in earlier chapters helped nurse Kuro back to health after [the spoily bad thing] happened

and I TOTALLY FELL FOR the misdirect in the opening chapter! this series often has out-of-order flashbacks just casually thrown in, so i assumed this was them taking a break from the sad ‘will kuro be okay’ stuff to show us one of her pas adventrues, especially cos she was alone without nijiku and sanju. But NOPE this is her dream while she’s sleeping, and all the people she just helped move on to their next journey are actually all already dead and she was giving them hope for stuff they never really managed to achieve. Like HOLY SHIT when the last person she saw was a glimpse of an actual alive person and then she steps off the train and wakes up?? And you only realize it cos she says ‘But I thought his eyes were getting better’ about the last guy Kuro met, who had that head injury from the war, and its like ‘but he’s right there? why are you saying ‘I was too late’- OH GOD HOLY SHIT’. Like seriously, was he on the way to go home and died on the train and then she was there at the station and had to see it, after she’d waited for him for so long and just AAAAA. And like, if Kuro is briefly visiting the afterlife and having a choice to take the death train because she’s in this paralyzing moment of depression, is that why the lady was there too? Did Kuro accidentally save her from comitting suicide to be with him? Its really fuckin’ good luck that they were able to cross paths in this dreamworld and she could pass on his last words. But also its REALLY DEPRESSING that her telling him to ‘take the train home’ is like.. thats what he was trying to do when he was on the brink of death, and being unable to do it is why he stayed here waiting in this afterlife train station, hoping against hope that he’d somehow be able to actually see his hometown and his girlfriend again, when the only option he had was a far more depressing journey to take. So even though its good that kuro helped him be able to pass on instead of being in pain, but still, would he have actually been able to talk to his girlfriend if he’d waited just a few minutes more??? god this mysterious dream is so confusing and tantalizing aaaaaa it would be a really good way to kill my heart if we actually meet the girlfriend character in the real world later on and see how she’s getting her life back together after his death or if we meet more relatives of the dead folks we saw in that dream

ALSO its really good that Kuro is battling her suicidal inclinations now and actually feeling like she wants to live, because of these lil kids but at the same time its tragic cos she’s still got this deadly plague thats gonna kill her anyway, and its like.. having hope makes it hurt more and OH GOD the line about how she’s decided the new purpose of her journey is to ‘make a new path for them to follow when I’m gone’ she’s decided that instead of having to choose between them and her goal, its just gonna be that if she fails and ends up dying she just wants to have taught them enough to survive on their own afterwards. she could still feel her story was completed if it ends with her having given these kids a new life, even if she never finds out who the witch was or how to stop the curse. OH GOD I CRY SO MUCH FOR THIS WEIRD LITTLE FAMILY

and then OH MAN the mysterious flashback too! that was a good misdirect without even being a twist, sorta?? there’s no big revelation moment and knowing the thing doesnt really change anything, and honestly it makes me feel a bit ‘whoops i should have figured it out straight away’ lol Its a really cool way of delivering a stealth backstory for Sen! Cos we never saw his face in human form before, we kinda were expecting it to continue being shadowed or at least be revealed in some sort of actual reveal scene. but nope, we just get introduced to apparantly some new character who’s a loner prince everyone thinks is a vampire, and then WHOOPS it was sen all along! (also LOL DUDE YOU’LL BE A VAMPIRE IN LIKE FIVE SECONDS, DONT WORRY) And its so obvious in retrospect, we even see that he has a lil girl as his apprentice and he's like ‘just call me sensei, i dont want you to get attatched to me’. But she looks completely different to Kuro so at most I just thought ‘oh it’ll be some sort of analogy or moral to the main story or something’. And then seriously there is NO INSIGHT TO ANYTHING and no explanation of what happened to them or why, its just horribly shocking both to them and the audience. We just get some disconnected cute 4-koma adventures of flashback kuro and sen, revealing a little of how they first met, and then literally kuro just turns around the corner and the panels dissolve into horrifying shadowy hands that tear her apart as she begs sen not to touch her or he’ll be cursed too. AND IT JUST ENDS Like seriously, there wasnt even a STORY to the witch cursing them?? she just appeared in their house one day?? she was fuckin lurking in the library and cursed the first person she made eye contact with???? and sen got dragged into it too cos he was trying to save the poor kid, after all these panels of him being cynical jerk saying he doesn’t care about her, and just.. *SOB*

But actually, I’m wondering why his curse was so much different compared to the formula we’ve seen for every other case of it? its always been this one same disease that makes you rot apart into shadow stuff until you die. Why did he turn into 1000 bats instead? A random theory: maybe he actually did die, and this isn’t really the same curse as kuro’s, this is something that happened to him to save him. The first time we saw the curse in action was from that kid who innocently talked to the witch and wished to use magic too, so maybe it like.. actually is that? Maybe this curse is a literal granting of the wish, maybe this is how she passes on her powers and it just kills people who arent worthy, or something. So i dunno, maybe Kuro has some degree of witch magic locked away deep inside her rotting heart now, and she subconciously used it to save Sen’s life by cursing him with this different curse? that could be A Good Depressing Twist later, cos it could mean that if Kuro gets cured, Sen will die. And I mean, it would explain why Kuro doesnt know she has witch powers, maybe the constant upkeep of maintaining Sen’s spell is taking up all her energy, or something? We never get to see if Mo actually got her wish for magic powers in that terrifying flashback, we just see how she started dying of the shadow plague and then how Kuro found her on the last day of her life and they became friends and then HER LEGS FUCKING FELL OFF AND CRUMBLED INTO DUST AND HER EYE FELL OUT OF HER HEAD and then kuro’s last scrap of optimism died and she decided to carry Mo’s coffin forever out of certainty that the curse would indeed kill her, her quest would fail, and she’d better be prepared for her own funeral And like, when i first read that chapter I thought that this was where Kuro got the curse?? I thought it was contagious from touch or something and by giving Mo a bit of peace on her deathbed she’d picked it up from her. (Though that wouldnt explain why nobody’s ever got infected from interacting with kuro throughout the rest of the story, so it was a bit confusing.) But now we know that apparantly Kuro got the disease way earlier and Mo was just the closest clue she’s ever got to finding the witch again, and a horrible vision of the future that will await her when her curse finishes its course. It makes the whole chapter way more depressing, cos you know the whole time she was suffering from the same disease and she just didnt wanna ruin Mo’s hope that she’d met some cool traveller who was totally gonna go on and live a long life of all the adventures she wanted to have. GODDDD THIS SERIESSSS

and okay seriously THE WORST BIT THAT DESTROYED ME is that we find out the evil witch who did this to both of them is actually the same person as the apaprantly good witch we saw in an earlier chapter who befriended those kids and had a badass retort to the asshole guy and just was really cool?? And its even more depressing if she isnt really evil at all and maybe somehow thinks what she’s doing is helping? she was really innocent in that first chapter and didnt seem to know much about humans. So like.. who did she meet? What did she do? Who taught her something very VERY wrong in the time between that flashback and now? is this just the result of some small shred of her old self left, her wanting to ‘help’ more children...? Cos actually it was kind of a big hint in that chapter, she said ‘i will give you one of my voices’ when she taught that kid how to read as ‘payment’ for him helping her learn what a ‘witch’ is, and that she can be a good one if she wants to. So I mean.. is this just her trying to more literally give part of herself to others to help them, not knowing that it’s hurting them, or maybe being so twisted now that she doesnt even care? ITS SO DEPRESSING! Its funny how I loved and trusted this literal eldritch abomination I saw in this chapter goofily dressing herself up in people clothes and practising pick-up lines, and how terrified I was of what I assumed was a perfectly normal human witch who hurt these poor children. But now its even more depressing if we have this strange nonhuman creature who everyone treated as evil, who was good at heart, who made her first friend, who had so much futrue ahead of her, and then just SOMETHING has happened that sent her down the path of becoming that evil thing everyone said she was in the beginning...

Oh and also i really like the theory I saw that she’s another alchemy experiment of the professor who created Nijiku and Sanju? Cos people call her ‘Hifumi’ and thats a name that can mean a number, same as those two. And it might maybe explain why the professor died in the first place. We just hear him saying he has to finish something before he can allow them out of their cage, and then he never comes back down that staircase ever again, and kuro sees some other empty cage next to his body... Oh and also WHY DONT YOU JUST FUCK ME UP, FINAL CHAPTER IN THIS VOLUME, HOLY SHITTTT It actually fits A LOT with this theory... The last chapter has Sanju accidentally horribly injuring a kitten she was trying to hold, and being terrified because it cant just be stitched together like a toy, or.. well, like herself. We see a flashback of how the twins would break a lot back when they were first created, and the professor would just stitch back Sanju’s one arm that kept rotting off. And they’re like.. kinda terrifyingly eldritch too, more than just simple lil kids who can shapeshift into animals. There was that earlier flashback about how they took a long time to adjust to having physical bodies, and used to phase through walls like ghosts until the professor explained how a cage is supposed to work. Like... only being limited by the laws of reality once they hear them spoken aloud. And apparantly they sat sleeping in those alchemy tubes for a long time and might have even like.. slowly developed into humanoid forms, they might have been some sort of visually terrifying thing in their newborn state. We the audience know that they’re just the same as any other innocent kid in personality, that they’re good kiddos no matter how they were born. But then sometimes we get reminded of their actual origins, and how they’d be potentially VERY dangerous in the wrong hands. And like.. even now we’ve just had a really sad reminder how they can be dangerous even when they’re being raised as normal kids by our kind protagonist, how just forgetting that they lack something that normal humans have can lead to this traumatic experience of one of them killing a small animal and not understanding that it cant be fixed, gAAAAAAHHHH :( Also the associated flashback was REALLY FUCKED UP, holy shit! you see the professor talking about redesigning their next beta with a sense of pain, so they stop accidentally breaking themselves, and apparantly he only managed to finish that modification to nijiku before he died. or, perhaps he only intended to give it to one of them, and is having this creepy detatched view of them where he can think ‘hey I’ll deliberately leave one broken to act as a test case’. that would actually fit a lot with the subtle stuff we know, like how apparantly when they were first born they’d randomly grow and de-grow and fluctuate everything between humanoid and animallike. And he notes how Sanju’s hair always returns to a long length whenever its cut, and just... like, he didnt fix that in her but it seems like Nijiku doesnt have the same problem? Does this mean that he actually did give nijiku a bunch of extra features and not fix mistakes that were hindering sanju, that he’s been doing that from the very beginning? I just thought it was maybe that nijiku never had the same hair problem, but I mean it seems like they started off identical in every other way. God I hope its not gonna be revealed that the prof never loved them at all and he was an abusive dad :(

GAHHH THIS MYSTERIOUS GODDAMN MANGA WITH NO ANSWERS FOR ANYTHING AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

1 note · View note

anachronisticanagram · 4 years

Text

Log Infancy Thru HS

I want to keep a log of my thoughts but anonymous because I need to get this off my chest without actually telling anyone. I’ve been thinking about the food problems I had growing up and, these are the things that (while I personally am always invalidating the illness I suffered from) show that it really has been a real issue all my life. I know my parents will try to convince me I’m crazy like they usually do, but I need to keep a log somewhere other than my notes app so I know I’m not.

1. I had binge eating problems as a baby (eating 8 ounces of formula to compete with my brother when I should have only been eating 3 and therefore not being able to keep anything down because of overeating).

2. Formative years (just past infancy until middle school) I used to sneak candy and food out of the cupboards, but not in a very normal way. I was terrified someone would find me but I physically felt I couldn’t resist chocolate.

3. Ballet class-- thighs were bigger than all the other girls and I didnt understand why so I felt hideous in the leotard.

4. I was 7, my mom was watching daytime ads. For some reason my mom started telling me about how some people would put their fingers in their throat and purge. From that day (until I actually learned how at 14) I was obsessed with the idea and I wanted to learn so bad.

5. This is my first solid memory of When I was 7-10 my best friend and I used to “make” clothes together-- she had a tiny waist (I did too but she was longer waisted which I interpreted to be skinnier) I was too uncomfortable wearing things that showed my stomach. I told her (when I was 8) “I have a fat person’s body.” She looked me up and down and said “oh.” I didn’t really understand it at the time but all I wanted was for her to say that I wasn’t, and when she didn’t, I looked in the mirror and suddenly hated my body so much. I remember wishing all the time and praying that I could look like and be as skinny as her.

6. Dance studio, I was 11-- I loved Hell Week during shows because it meant I could avoid eating easier-- Maggie used to comment constantly on how “healthy” I was because all I would eat every day were Cliff Bars and celery because when I was at the pharmacy with my mother I saw a program on TV that said celery had negative calories so it would make you lose more weight. I ate like this for weeks on end. I would hide food in my socks to avoid eating it, slip it up my long sleeve shirts/jackets, hide it in pockets. Talk a lot so that I could avoid eating until everyone left the dinner table so I could hide it.

7. Throughout my whole life, my mother has made comments about my weight. Jokingly calling me a pig hurt a lot more than she realized but she still does it (even after knowing I had a problem.) Comparing me to my aunt saying that I ate like her (a 300-400lb old woman), telling me I took after the women in my dad’s side of the family so I needed to watch my weight more carefully than most people. Recently even telling me when I got back from school that I looked so much better with the weight lost (which I lost because I pretended to need to keep my video on for class so I could throw the food away she brought into my room instead of eating with the family. Completely forgot I did that until now.) “Your limbs were starting to look like stuffed sausages in your clothes.” That one is stupid but still makes me want to cry, I’ve always had overly strong feelings to things my mother says and her opinions about me.

8. “As they grow older, girls eat less and less and boys eat more and more.” My mother also said things like this a lot, bragging about how in middle school she went on a 200 calorie diet over summer of only mustard and pickles on tortillas and lost all the weight she had gained. Constantly commenting on how her weight is, how fat she is (when she weighed less than me.) Saying how her mom kept her figure looking good by barely eating anything during the week so that she could eat a bowl of ice cream every friday night.

9. I was obsessed (age 7-12) America’s Next Top Model only because of how their bodies looked. Only ever liked the skinniest ones and thought the ones who actually had more than just bones and skin were fat.

10. When I was 14 was when everything exploded. I had already made habits of hiding food for years but now I joined pro-ana mia sites online. I had a calorie counting journal, three different food diaries, and I was constantly weighing myself. Everyone except my dad was leaving town for a few weeks, and I was ecstatic. I could not eat without anyone noticing. Got into a habit of leaving dishes everywhere with traces of food on them (if my family ever sees this, that’s why for so many years I left un-rinsed dishes everywhere (that and ADD lol)). My dad left for coffee and when he was gone I purged for the first time. This led to months of binging and purging where I would “practice singing” in the garage. I couldn’t just throw the barf bags in the trash so I found an old dresser of mine and filled the whole thing up with the bags (awful i know but I never got caught.) When my parents read my texts and found out, I was so ashamed. They shamed me for it instead of trying to help me and acted like I did it all for attention (which, I think I would have actually TOLD someone if that was the case. I was throwing up my stomach lining and still wouldnt tell anyone.) I wasnt allowed to be alone after that and to this day cant have my door closed. It was genuinely one of the most awful years of my life.

11. When I was 15 I got down to 117.5 lbs which was the lowest I ever actually recorded. I didn’t eat for a full two weeks and passed out on a bench my first time at Disneyland. To this day everyone thinks I just fell asleep. Oddly enough the lowest weight I got to (after not eating during the Disney day) was 125.4 (odd because now I’m a few inches taller, 5 years older, and weigh closer to 120 without much issue) and I was so proud of that I started eating again (binging). Guessing it was so difficult because I was still growing.

12. At this point I started having what I call “the cycle.” Every month I’d go back and forth from eating everything to eating nothing at all and I never really saw an issue with it. I thought i was being healthy when I wasn’t eating but I never really noticed it past 16 because I thought it was normal. At 17 when I had my first bf I ate more normally because we would go out all the time. But my mentality was still not healthy.

13. 17, during the summer I gained about 15 pounds (barely obvious i see now but it felt like a lot.) I drank two sodas every day and ate three big bowls of buttered popcorn or nachos every single day and didn’t get off the couch all summer watching TV. I was super depressed bc my parents reaction to my first real crush was on a girl at school.

14. End of high school, I considered myself a recoveree-- didn’t think about my weight much but I was eating 3 meals a day and snacking in between all meals. Again. the monthly cycle of binging to suddenly being paranoid about my weight continued. There’s more past high school but this is just the general summary of specific moments that I remember growing up that affected me.

I think all of this is proof of why I have a heart condition now.

0 notes

writingguide003-blog · 5 years

Text

'A total blast': our writers pick their favorite summer blockbusters ever

New Post has been published on https://writingguideto.com/must-see/a-total-blast-our-writers-pick-their-favorite-summer-blockbusters-ever/

'A total blast': our writers pick their favorite summer blockbusters ever

As the season heats up on the big screen, Guardian writers look back on their picks from the past with killer sharks, mournful crime-fighters and time-traveling teens

Face/Off (1997)

Photograph: Allstar/Cinetext/PARAMOUNT

Madman bomber Nicolas Cage stole John Travoltas dead sons life. So gloomy FBI agent Travolta steals Cages face. When Cage steals his face and his wife and freedom John Woos Face/Off becomes the biggest, wackiest and most operatic summer blockbuster in history, a gonzo combustion that flings everything from pigeons to peaches at the screen.

Hong Kong cineastes might applaud a script with roots in the ancient Sichuan opera genre Bian Lian, where performers swap masks like magic. Popcorn-munchers, of which I am front row center, are here to watch whack job Cage and soulful Travolta, two actors who love to go full-ham, play each other and go deep inside their iconographies. Call it hamception. Or just call it a crazy swing that hits a home run as Cavolta and Trage battling it out in a warehouse, a speedboat and, of course, a church. As Cage-as-Travolta gloats to Travolta-as-Cage, Isnt this religious? The eternal battle between good and evil, saint and sinners but youre still not having any fun! Maybe hes not, but we sure are. Bravo, bravo. AN

Edge of Tomorrow (2014)

Photograph: David James/Publicity image from film company

Theres been an increasing sense of desperation clinging to the majority of roles picked by Tom Cruise in recent years. Outside of the still shockingly entertaining Mission: Impossible series, he was miscast in the barely serviceable Jack Reacher and its maddeningly unnecessary sequel, his awards-aiming American Made was throwaway and his franchise-starting The Mummy was a franchise-killer. But four summers ago, he picked the right horse just maybe at the wrong time.

Because despite how deliriously fun Edge of Tomorrow was in the summer of 2014, audiences didnt show the requisite enthusiasm. It was a moderate success (enough to warrant a long-gestating sequel) but it should have packed them in, its combination of charm, invention and sheer thrills making it one of the most objectively successful blockbuster experiences in memory. The nifty plot device (Cruise must relive a day of dying while battling aliens over and over again) allowed for some dark gallows humor and a frenetic pace that kept us all giddily on edge while it also contained a dazzling action star turn from Emily Blunt whose fearless Full Metal Bitch wrestled the film away from Cruise. Blame its relative failure on the bland title? Cruise fatigue? Blockbuster over-saturation? Then find a digital copy to watch and rewatch and repeat. BL

Back to the Future (1985)

Photograph: Allstar/UNIVERSAL/Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar

Back to the Future very nearly wasnt a summer blockbuster. The reshoots required after Eric Stoltz was booted off, then the fact Michael J Foxs Family Ties commitments meant he could only shoot at night all meant filming didnt wrap until late April. Robert Zemeckis and Steven Spielberg duly pencilled in an August / September release.

But then people started seeing it. Test scores were off the scale. Said producer Frank Marshall: Id never seen a preview like that. The audience went up to the ceiling. So they bagsied the best spot the year had to offer 3 July hired a squad of sound editors to work round the clock and two print editors with instructions to get properly choppy. They did, and those big trims tightened yet further one of the tautest screenplays (by Bob Gale) cinema has ever seen. The only bit of fat they left was the Johnny B Goode scene: sure, it didnt advance the story, but the kids at those test screenings knew we were gonna love it. Back to the Future is a pure shot of summer cinema: grand, ambitious, insanely entertaining. Deadpool, Avengers, take note: a blockbuster can be smart as hell so long as it wears it lightly. In the end, by the way, the film spent 11 weeks at number 1 at the US box office. Thats essentially the whole summer. CS

Teminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)

Photograph: Allstar/TRISTAR/Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar

The first film I ever saw at the cinema was The Rocketeer. We drove into Bradford city centre, bought our tickets at the Odeon and sat through the 1991 tale which followed the fortunes of a stunt pilot, a rocket pack and a Nazi agent played by Timothy Dalton who sounded like he was from Bury rather than Berlin. The way into the multiplex there was a huge poster for Terminator 2: Judgment Day. Arnie sat on a Harley with a shotgun cocked and ready. My dad was a huge fan of the original but he still couldnt swing taking a seven-year-old to see it. It wasnt until I borrowed a VHS copy that I finally got to see what was behind that image. Skynet, dipshits, T-1000s, a nuclear holocaust and a motorbike chases on the LA river.

Blockbusters dont usually have that edge: theres a more brazen mainstream appeal. But Judgment Day was and still is an exception. It did huge numbers at the box office (more than $500m), was a rare sequel that was arguably better than the original and introduced really odd bits of Spanish idiom into the Bradford schoolyard lexicon. I probably would have been scarred for life watching it as a seven-year-old, but as a teenager it gave me a story I doubt Ill ever get tired of revisiting. LB

The Dark Knight (2008)

Photograph: Allstar/WARNER BROS.

The summer of 2008 was a busy one: Barack Obama emerged from a contentious democratic primary to become the first ever black presidential nominee of a major party. The dam fortifying the entire global financial system was about to burst. China hosted its first ever Summer Olympics. But somehow, and not exactly to my credit, what I remember most from that summer is the uncanny, ridiculously over-the-top publicity blitzkrieg that preceded the release of The Dark Knight, which has since emerged as not just an all-time great summer blockbuster, but an all-time great American film, period.

There were faux-political billboards that read I believe in Harvey Dent; a weirdly nondescript website of the same name; Joker playing cards dispersed throughout comic book stores, which led fans to another website where the DA was defaced with clown makeup. Dentmobiles, Gotham City voter registration cards, a pop-up local news channel: the marketing campaign might have seemed excessive had the movie not so convincingly topped it. Ten years later, as films like Deadpool and Avengers: Infinity War try to reach those same heights of virality, The Dark Knight remains the measuring stick by which every superhero movie, and superhero villain, is measured. JN

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Photograph: Jasin Boland/AP

In many ways, Fury Road is summer: arid, scorching, bright enough to be squinted at. The driving force behind all the high-impact driving is scarcity of water, the essence of life in a desert where death practically rises up from the burning sand. Even in the air-conditioned comfort of a multiplex auditorium in Washington DCs Chinatown, watching George Millers psychotic motor opera left this critic sweaty and parched. My world is fire and blood, warns the weary Max Rockatansky (Tom Hardy) in the scripts opening lines. Staggering out of a theater into the oppressive rays of the sun, it sure can feel that way.

Millers masterpiece fits into the summer blockbuster canon in a less literal capacity as well, striking its ideal balance of dazzling technical spectacle and massively-scaled emotional catharsis. There was plenty of breathless praise to go around upon this films 2015 release, much of it for the feats of practical-effects daring, but the hysterical extremes of feeling cemented its status as a modern classic. I cant deny that Ive watched the polecat sequence upwards of a dozen times, but Millers film truly comes alive in Furiosas howl of desperation, and in Maxs noble disappearance into the throng. CB

Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

Photograph: Alamy Stock Photo

Its the music, its the giant boulder, its the Old Testament mysticism, its the whip, its the Cairo Swordsman, its Harrison Fords crooked smile, its the bad dates, its Karen Allen drinking a sherpa under the table, its the melted faces and exploding heads. Its all these things plus having the good fortune of seeing this at the cinema at a very young age, therefore watching most of it through my terrified fingers. (Indy tells Marion to keep her eyes shut during the cosmic spooky ending; way ahead of you there!)

The modern blockbuster as we know it was created by Steven Spielberg with Jaws and George Lucas with Star Wars, so the hype was unmatched when the two collaborated in 1981 with Raiders of the Lost Ark. As a kid I had no idea this was a loving homage to cliffhanger serials from the 30s and 40s, I took it as pure adventure. The seven-and-a-half minute desert truck chase (I dont know, Im making thus up as I go) is probably the best action sequence in all of cinema (John Woos Hard Boiled does not have a horse, sorry), but watching as an adult one notices a lot of sophisticated humor, too. (Indy being too exhausted to make love to Marion, for example, is something that didnt connect when I was six.)

Its strange to think I watched these cartoon Nazis on VHS with my grandparents who had escaped the Holocaust, and no one benefits when you do the math to figure out how young Marion was when, as Indy puts it, you knew what you were doing. But for thrills, laughs and propulsive camerawork (though a little mild Orientalism), nothing tops this one. JH

Independence Day (1996)

Photograph: Everett/REX/Shutterstock

Short of actually calling their film Summer Blockbuster, rarely can a films height-of-summer release date been so central to a films raison detre. This being the mid-90s, when po-mo and self-referentiality was all the rage, brazenly hooking your tentpole film to 4 July was seen as a pretty smart idea.

Fortunately, all the ducks did line up in a row for ID4: a game-changing performance from Will Smith, Jeff Goldblum at (arguably) his funniest, a rousingly Clintoneque president in Bill Pullman and most importantly in that run-up to the millennium physical destruction on a gigantic scale. Much comment at the time was expended on the laser obliteration of the White House (an early shot from the Tea Party/Maga crowd?), but I personally cherish director Roland Emmerichs signature move of detonating cars in somersault formation. Like many other huge-budget films then and since, Independence Day was basically a tooled-up retread of cheap-as-chips format of earlier decades though who these days would roll such expensive dice on what is essentially an original script, with no comic book or toy branding as a forerunner? We shall never see its like again. AP

Aliens (1986)

Photograph: Allstar/20 CENTURY FOX/Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar

An Aliens summer is one for moviegoers who prefer to sit in in darkened rooms when the sun is shining; the brutal confines of the fiery power plant make an excellent subliminal ad for air conditioning. In 1986, James Cameron took Ridley Scotts elegant, iconic horror template and turned it into an all-out action blockbuster, forcing Ripley once again to face down her nemeses in a breathless fug of claustrophobia, sweat and fear. Its relentlessly stressful and unbelievably thrilling.

I first saw Aliens many years after its initial release. Owing to its sizeable and long-lasting legacy, it was at once immediately familiar, yet also brisk and brutally fresh. I understood that it was a classic, but I wasnt prepared for just how good it is, for the pitch-perfect management of tension, the pace that never really lets up, the emotional pull. The maternal undertow of Ripleys protection of Newt, and the alien mirror of that, adds a level of heart unusual in most blockbusters, and her frustration at being a woman whose authority must be earned again and again, and then proven again and again, remains grimly relevant, 30 years on. Its also a total blast. Now get away from her, you bitch. RN

Jaws (1975)

Photograph: Fotos International/Getty Images

It is the great summer blockbuster ancestor the film that in 1975 more or less invented the concept of the event movie. And unlike all those other summer blockbusters, Steven Spielbergs Jaws is actually about the summer; it is explicitly about the institution of the summer vacation, into which the movie was being sold as part of the seasonal entertainment. It is about the sun, the sand, the beach, the ocean and the entirely justified fear of being eaten alive by an enormous shark with the appetite of a serial killer and the cunning of a U-boat commander. And more than that: it is about that most contemporary of political phenomena: the coverup, the town authorities at a seaside resort putting vacationers at risk by not warning them about the shark. The Jaws mayor has become comic shorthand for the craven and pusillanimous politician.

A blockbuster nowadays means spectacular digital effects, but this film is from an analogue world. It bust the block through brilliant film-making and an inspired score from John Williams, summoning up the shark with a simple two-note theme which became the most famous musical expression of evil since Bernard Herrmanns shrieking violin stabs in Psycho took the place of actual knife-slashing. I still remember the excitement of the summer of 1975, and the queues around the block at the Empire, in Watford, round the corner from the football ground. The inspired brevity of the title meant the word was repeated over and over again to fill the marquee display: JAWS JAWS JAWS as if they were screaming it! PB

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us

0 notes